


How To Love Someone Who Is Broken

by Nobodydiestonight (orphan_account)



Series: Stardust [5]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Prequel, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-20 16:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 33,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9500885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Nobodydiestonight
Summary: “When I first met Jillian, she was like a feral kitten. Desperate for affection, but no idea how to get it without being destructive.”Holtzbert — Life in a series of moments from the failed “We’re dating,” to actually dating.Prequel to One Hundred Percent Stardust





	1. Chapter 1

 

_Gently, lay your hands on their soul like a whisper and find the places in which they are broken. Then love them until these fractured places become crevices, and the crevices become thin, white scars that they only just barely remember. — Nikita Gill_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_October 11, 2001 — Massachusetts Institute of Technology_

 

Jillian tried to sit up but found a pressure on her shoulder that had her pinned to the floor. Her blood pressure spiked in panic and she yelped out of distress, then out of pain when the nerves in her arms activated. 

 

“Shhh, Jillian, shhh, Jillian, don’t move.” 

 

She forced opened an eye and saw a damn near halo around her professor’s head through the haze of smoke that was still lingering in the room. “Sh, sh, sh, don’t move, don’t move. The ambulance is on the way.” A sob worked it’s way from her lips, which she desperately wanted to keep in. The last thing she wanted was to feel weak in front of legendary engineer Rebecca Gorin. It was miracle enough she’d been let into the woman’s famed lab as a mere freshman on campus, let alone that the elder doctor knew her by name. “It’s okay to cry, Jillian,” The woman assured her and she suddenly felt a rush of liquid over her arm, making her scream out louder. “I’m sure it hurts, let it out.” 

 

Realizing there was someone else — several someones, hovering over her person, she squeezed her eyes shut and screeched again when the supposedly soothing water hit her hip. She tried to focus on something, anything but her vision was speckled with black and white dots and she could feel her eyes rolling back in her head.

 

“No, no, stay with me, stay with me,” Rebecca muttered. Her glasses were gone and her hair appeared dusty. Her face was covered in soot and — was that blood? _No_ — Jillian had tried to keep her from getting hurt — 

 

Rebecca didn’t move, merely whispered shushing sounds and kept her torso in place. Soon, however, time was lost as Jillian slipped in and out of consciousness.

 

When she did finally come to, it was with the soundtrack of beeping machines, soft voices murmuring a prognosis, and a groan that came from the back of her own throat. The first thing she saw, once again, was a curly mop of brown curls, though they were now relatively clean, and wide rectangular glasses. Rebecca shuffled from across the hospital room and to the student’s bed in a flurry, the doctor appearing at her other side. Jillian let out a dry, “I’m sorry,” Through chapped lips and one of the most brilliant scientists in the world merely blinked down at her.

 

“Sorry? Whatever for?” The woman was awkwardly bent over her and Jillian wished that she’d leave. She admired Dr. Gorin too much to be seen as a useless screw-up. Though it was probably already too late for that. “Jillian, you…probably spared my life.”

 

Feeling that she was about to cry again, Jillian turned to face the doctor, who was prepared to ask a series of questions to the seventeen-year-old. She offered her a foam cup with a straw, prompting the teenager to take a drink before speaking again. 

 

“Your driver’s ID says that you are seventeen, but didn’t have anyone listed as parental or guardian contacts on your school forms,” The woman asked with a gentle smile. “The address was to an ice cream place — they said you used to work for them. Who can we call for you?”

 

Quiet for a moment, Jillian felt the hazy effects of whatever painkillers the EMTs had pumped into her. Finally, she muttered, “My case worker is on maternity leave until Thanksgiving. I don’t know who the sub is.”

 

“Case worker?” The doctor questioned. “For what, Jillian?”

 

“Social services,” She blinked, having a feeling she knew what was coming next. “Foster care.” Rebecca suddenly took a seat with a heavy breath that was let out of her nostrils as if the world abruptly made sense. “You can call agency. But — my birthday is next week, I-I’ll be eighteen.”

 

Frowning, Rebecca firmly stated, “Consider her under my care until the agency sorts something out, doctor. I’ll call the university and speak with her hall director.”

 

“They worked with the agency to get me placed there,” Jillian said in a small voice, feeling no pain as whatever was coursing through her was doing more than its job. She felt like she might fall asleep again. “Everything was done legally, promise.”

 

“Alright, then,” Rebecca nodded, stepping out of the room as the physician did a nerve responsiveness test and explained that Jillian would likely be in the hospital for a few days to ensure that her wounds stayed clean to prevent infection to the second degree burns which took up a considerable space on her left forearm and hip. She also wouldn’t have the ‘cool morphine drip’ when she left, so the doctor felt a few nights in the hospital would do her a little good.

 

“You’re about ten pounds under weight, Jillian,” The doctor warned her, “So we’re going to be sending a nutritionist up when you’ve been placed into a regular room.”

 

With her head back on the pillows, Jillian stared at the bandages on her arm and groaned when she tried to move it. “I’ve been under weight my whole life,” She said in a mumble. “I’ve grew up in a trailer with my mostly unemployed alcoholic mother, got free ‘lunch’ at public school, and have a high metabolism ‘cause I don’t know how to sit down for more than ten minutes.”

 

“Still, at your height and age, you should weigh more than one hundred three pounds. And two of those factors are no long at play.” 

 

Pouting, she nodded when the doctor excused herself and handed her the television remote. Jillian could hardly watch television when she was doing it willingly, let alone trapped to a hospital bed against her will. 

 

It was nearly an hour and a half before Dr. Gorin returned. Jillian took in the sight of her abnormally tall engineering professor, dressed in a snazzy pair of tan pants with a coral button up tucked in and a matching jacket over it all. She pulled a seat up beside her student and perched an eyebrow. “Why did you feel the need to put yourself between me and the explosion?”

 

Swallowing thickly, Jillian’s blue eyes bore into chocolate brown ones and she felt a ping of guilt creeping in. Playing with the edge of the sheet that was pulled over her legs, she shrugged, cropped blonde locks falling around her chin as she found anything to look at but the woman she idolized. She’d been invited to the lab to watch a graduate student’s demonstration. Throughout the presentation, the young woman had sensed something was wrong in the schematics, but didn’t want to say so to embarrass someone with much more education than herself. She’d zoned in on Dr. Gorin during the professor’s up-and-close review of the product to tell her the reasoning behind the flaw, when the entire thing blew and Holtz shoved the brilliant mind of nuclear engineering out of the way, catching her left side in the process.

 

“I’m sure you’ve got a reason. Unless your protective instinct is just that good.”

 

Jillian turned over a little, hissing as it stretched at the burn on her side. “I was coming up to tell you that the thermal readings in John’s case were flawed and that the explosion was inevitable. I saw it go off and I just wanted to push you out of danger. The world needs you,” Jillian finally responded after a long stretch of silence.

 

“I’m fifty-two, Jillian,” The woman said, her voice a little less sharp. “You’re seventeen. Tell me who’s got more time in the world?”

 

“Statistically or theoretically?” The younger scientist wondered.

 

Rebecca licked her lips before starting to speak again. “I’ve looked through your files — before today. Saw that you were the department pick for the full ride scholarship we offer. You have an IQ of one sixty-three. That’s _off the charts_ intelligence. Eighteen points higher than my own.” 

 

Flushing, Jillian dipped her hair forward a little to cover more of her face. She’d never been good at receiving compliments and she hardly saw herself as worthy of anything. The entire last six months had felt like a fog, like she was watching someone else’s life play out through her own body. 

 

“You have so much potential, so much in you to share with the world. It needs you, too, Jillian.”

 

Feeling her heart stuttering in her chest, Jillian wiped a tear as it fell. A sudden weight rested on her lap and she found Dr. Gorin’s hand on her, giving a little squeeze. “Let me help you find your potential. Let me help you learn about operating in a lab and existing in life. I’m not perfect by any means, but I’ve had thirty-five more years on this planet to learn the rules. I’d like to help teach them to you, if you’ll let me?”

 

X

 

_January 2017_

 

“Erin!” Holtzmann shouted as the physicist stepped into their shared lab space on their blustery first work day of the new year. She looked up to find her friend wearing a horrified expression, “Don’t move any closer!” 

 

Blinking in surprise, Erin froze in the doorway and realized the bouncy blonde was in a terrible yellow outfit that even included a hood. She hadn’t seen Holtzmann since their Christmas party, as she’d been in Massachusetts visiting her mentor. “What are you —“

 

“Radiation suit is downstairs, grab one before you get any further in!”

 

Retreating slowly, Erin shuffled down the steps with an eye roll, spotting Patty and Abby walking into the firehouse at the same time, boisterous and laughing. 

 

“Morning!” The taller of them greeted as she brushed snowflakes off her hair and hung up her jacket. “What’s the look for?”

 

“You know what Holtzmann’s up to?” She questioned, mostly to Abby as she noticed the little sign that Holtz had drawn, warning them not to head upstairs unprotected, along with a stack of awful yellow rubber clothes. “She said not to come up without one of these on.”

 

“Remember, the containment unit prototype is going live? Dr. Gorin’s here to help make sure she doesn’t blow the entire block.”

 

Feeling her heart skip a beat at the name of Holtzmann’s mentor, she swallowed and nodded. “Probably just best to stay down here today, then, huh?”

 

“You kidding? Pass up the opportunity to work with _the_ Rebecca Gorin?” Abby sauntered to the awful yellow and started suiting up immediately. 

 

“I don’t know,” Erin said, a little self-consciously, her shoulders shifting as her gaze dropped to the floor to examine Patty’s jazzy golden sneakers she was changing into after toeing off her wet winter boots. “I was under the impression that she didn’t like us very much the last time she was here.”

 

“Eh,” Abby shrugged. “I think that’s just the way she is. I think the only person she really likes in the whole world is Holtz, actually, she’s practically been her mother for like, what, fifteen years?” 

 

Biting her lip, the taller of them nodded. “Yeah, okay, maybe I’ll be up in a little bit then.” She watched as even Patty got ready to head upstairs to work with the extremely unstable radioactive isotopes, but Erin just wasn’t sure.

 

After what Holtzmann had later chucked up to ‘joking,’ about dating Erin in front of Dr. Gorin, Erin had been hunted down by the professor before she’d left. She simply asked if Erin had any interest in Holtzmann _in that way_ , and Erin had tried to deny it, but knew the look on her face was easily deciphered. It was clear that Rebecca was extremely protective of her all time favorite student. Though she was curious to know more of their history that would lead to such strong feelings, Erin didn’t push. She merely nodded when the woman asked her to ‘be careful with her feelings.’ She felt, several months later, that she had; been careful with Holtz’s feelings that is. What she wasn’t so sure about by the new year, were her own towards the ever-spunky engineer. 

 

Putsing around the main level for a few minutes, Erin shook her head of the thoughts. She started the coffee pot, booted up a computer, then set to work with a set of notes and a steaming mug of hazelnut brew. Having promised a journal article to a company for their February issue, she set to typing, losing herself for the morning to consolidating her thoughts to the keyboard. 

 

Interrupted several hours later by thundering footsteps that could only belong to Holtzmann, followed by several lighter ones, she realized it was already passed noon and she was likely a thousand words over her limit. They started chatting with Patty about lunch plans and before she knew it, Erin was greeting Dr. Gorin with a shy hello before being swept out of the firehouse and down the street to a bistro they often frequented for lunch. 

 

She was surprised when Holtzmann slid in next to her, disrupting their usual seating arrangement. To make matters more awkward, Dr. Gorin sat directly across from her in the booth, while Abby was at her side and Patty at Holtzmann’s. The whole balance was off and Erin knew her face was red and easy to read.

 

Though she noticed, Holtz ignored the cue that her crush was overwhelmed and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Sorry the first interaction we’ve had in two weeks was me screaming at you this morning. I’m happy to see you.”

 

Finding a little grin, Erin leaned a little into the touch before offering a flicker of her eyes to the side. “Happy new year, Holtz.”

 

“Dr. Gilbert, Abigail told me that you’re working on sending your article on the alteration of Zalta’s Abstract Object Theory to _Physics Monthly_?”

 

“Oh,” She nodded and Holtz finally removed her hand, though Erin could admit to herself that she missed the pressure. “Yeah. They got in touch with me.”

 

Dr. Gorin offered, “I have a friend at the _Physics Review_ who would probably also enjoy publishing an article of yours.”

 

“The-The _Review_?” Erin stuttered, managing to meet Rebecca’s intense gaze. “That- would be amazing!”

 

“I’ll send Thomas a line when I’m back in Massachusetts. Quite frankly, I’d enjoy reading it as well, but I don’t subscribe to Monthly. Jillian gave me a copy of your book for Christmas and I was vastly impressed.”

 

“Oh, my goodness, thank you,” Erin flushed and received a little slug from Holtz’s elbow and a bright, toothy smile from the woman. 

 

They fell into a discussion about said Abstract Object Theory while waiting for their food to arrive. All the while, Holtzmann staring between them like someone had just wrangled up the moon and brought it down for her. With her two favorite women in the world having an intelligent, science based talk, she was internally squealing the entire time. She chimed in occasionally, but mostly just wanted Erin to get to know Rebecca a little more so she wasn’t so intimidated by her presence at their place of work.It turned out one of Erin’s favorite professors at Princeton had worked with Rebecca for years, and after that, there was laughter and easy conversation between them. 

 

After eating and returning to the firehouse, Erin willingly joined the crew upstairs. The afternoon was spent in nervous winces followed by roaring cheers as they managed to bring the containment unit to life. 

 

When five o’clock rolled around and Kevin told them he was headed out, Patty suggested dinner to celebrate. Bravely, Erin offered her apartment so they wouldn’t have to go out again. All in agreement, she was grateful when Patty offered to head over there with her to assist in cooking while Abby helped the dynamic engineering duo get cleaned up. 

 

They grilled chicken strips, peppers and onions to make fajitas while Patty’s phone blasted music that Erin didn’t really know but could certainly groove to, making the taller woman cackle every few minutes as she tossed spices into the pan. Erin mashed an avocado with cilantro and diced tomatoes, preparing a guacamole side dish. She seasoned rice before letting it boil and they were prepared for an excellent, home-cooked meal. They were putting food on the table just as the other three arrived to Erin’s cozy apartment which was quite sizable compared to the rest of the ladies places, save Patty’s, but she had roommates to support the space. 

 

Holtzmann bounced into the kitchen holding a fifth of tequila like Rafiki in the Lion King, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose dramatically. Erin laughed and nodded to the top cupboard where the glasses were stored, and their favorite mad scientist got to work when Abby brought in the lime mixer. When everyone was seated, Holtzmann was standing with a nervous, but happy smile. “Erin, thank you so much for opening your lovely home to us this first evening together in 2017. Dr. Gorin, thank you for supervising me today and helping ensure my ladies were all kept safe — and happy new year, Ghostbusters!” They all let out a little whoop, and Erin noted that Holtz’s speech was held together much better than the last one she gave. Touching between her shoulders sweetly, they went to work on eating, Holtz slightly lower then the rest of them as she sat in Erin’s spinning desk chair since the table was built for four. 

 

Dinner was loud, especially when Patty got to her third drink and Abby was on her second and everything was funny. Erin merely enjoyed the laughter in her apartment. A place of her own, filled with friends having a good time was more than she’d ever imagined. 

 

After eating and doing a hasty clean up in the kitchen, the Ghostbusters and honorary member were gathered in Erin’s living room. Patty, Abby and Holtzmann were playing one of Erin’s few games; Holtz having lost her glasses, blazer, chunky watch, and large belt buckle along the way, leaving her in a pair of striped pants and a Back to the Future shirt. She was getting comfortable and cozy against Dr. Gorin’s legs as she played while Erin and her mentor were deep in theory-based conversation once again.

 

Out of cards to play in the game, Holtz eventually migrated so she was sitting on the sofa next to Rebecca. Within an hour or so of trying to participate in the conversation that she couldn’t quite focus on, Holtz had her head in the older professor’s lap while Rebecca continued talking, her fingers working through the blonde curls on the left side of her head like it was a normal occurrence. It was around eleven o’clock when Abby and Patty finished the game and headed out, that Erin noted — Holtz was sound asleep in Dr. Gorin’s lap. 

 

She was curled up at the edge of the sofa, her legs in a ball and mouth slightly parted, her breathing heavy. Rebecca continued to play with her hair or rub her back as she snoozed, shifting the conversation with Erin to explain the behavior. “She’s been with me for two weeks. I’ve always had rules for her, and being in a routine that involves regular sleeping and eating habits is primary among them.”

 

Curious, but not wanting to be nosy, Erin tried to think of phrasing to her burning question. “When did you two meet?” 

 

Rebecca sighed, and paused when Holtz shifted, fearing she might be awake, but she just let out a snore and turned so she was curled more into Dr. Gorin’s side. “She started school at seventeen, still in the foster care system. After an incident in the lab where she saved my life but injured herself, she needed someone to help her recover for a few weeks. She stayed with me, in the faculty townhouses that were apart of the campus. She wanted to move back to the residence halls after that, but I wouldn’t allow it. It became very clear to me that her reckless move in the lab was just the icing on the cake for her inability to care for herself. It wasn’t her fault — no one taught her how. But…” 

 

Rebecca paused with a heavy, breath, staring fondly at her all-time favorite student. “She’s incredibly smart, but so, so dangerously stupid at times, it drives me _mad_. But — like most people she’s ever let close enough, I quickly came to love Jillian and wouldn’t trade my time with her for the world. Every time she comes to visit I wish she could stay. She’s such a positive force of light in the world, for everyone who’s lucky enough to know her.”

 

Erin bit her lip and nodded. She couldn’t deny her ever-growing attraction to the blonde, and she was fairly sure it wasn’t simply their budding friendship. “You know — she’s so…so…” Not finding words, she tried an alternative route. “She comes across as a very loud personality, but when you get to know her — she’s actually very quite. And private.”

 

Dr. Gorin elaborated more. “She wasn’t always like that. When I first met Jillian, she was like a feral kitten. Desperate for affection, but no idea how to get it without being destructive. I’d get calls at all hours of the day and night for the first few months after her recovery, until one day we really had it out. I’ve yelled at plenty of students over the years, but I’d never seen anyone react like Jillian. It was like watching a rose wither up before my eyes — the light was stolen right out of her. She was still, stoic…I didn’t know what to do. I ignored her the rest of that day and that night found her just sitting in the tub, water had gone freezing cold — just sitting, staring at nothing. I got her up and dried off and dressed and brought her to bed with me and held her while she cried, the entire night. She told me she’d leave first thing in the morning and it absolutely broke my heart that she’d think our relationship was over because I’d been frustrated with her.

 

“Underneath it all — the loud come-off or the quiet truth; she’s extremely sensitive, passionate, sweet. She’s been hurt by _so many people_ in her life. It makes me very pleased to know, she’s finally found a little niche here with the three of you.”

 

Erin didn’t know what to say in response to the sudden onslaught of information about Holtzmann. She simply watched as Dr. Gorin carefully lifted herself up and Erin slid a pillow in her lap’s place. Holtz rolled to her other side and a little sigh escaped her. “Do you mind if she stays the night? Once her circadian rhythm is disturbed, she’s a lost cause.”

 

“Not at all,” Erin quietly agreed. She went to her bedroom, finding a spare blanket in the linen closet and carefully spread it over Holtz’s body. 

 

Dr. Gorin tugged on her jacket and put a gentle hand on Erin’s shoulder after fishing Holtz’s keys out of her pocket. “I’ll see you two in the morning, then.”

 

Waving her goodbye, Erin triple locked the door and set the security code before shuffling about, finishing the dishes and turning out all the lights except for the hallway. Scribbling a quick note for Holtzmann should she wake up in the middle of the night confused, Erin got herself ready for bed, brushing her teeth and tugging on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt, not wanting to get fun poked at her for a matching set of pajamas in the morning. After responding to Abby and Patty’s messages that they’d gotten home safely (as was their normal), Erin plugged in her phone and turned on the string of star-shaped lights under the lip of her dresser. 

 

It was a few hours later when a gentle hand on her shoulder made her startle at the thought of an intruder.

 

“Shit, sorry, Er,” Holtz mumbled quietly, her voice gravely. Blinking an eye open at the time and noting it was one o’clock, Erin moaned. “Sorry, sorry, um, what’s your security code?”

 

“Holtz, it’s one in the morning, you’re not leaving now.”

 

“But I —“

 

“No,” Erin responded, taking her pillow and rolling her whole body over on the mattress, switching it out for the other one, patting the then-empty space and closing her eyes again. “You can sleep here if the couch isn’t comfy but you’re not leaving this late.”

 

There was a distinct hesitation and Erin remembered the conversation with Dr. Gorin earlier. Taking a second to gather her thoughts, she sat up a little bit and stared at Holtzmann, illuminated in the light twinkling of her fairy lights. “Sorry, that sounded harsh.” She rubbed at an eye and explained, “I know you’re perfectly capable of getting home by yourself, but I’m not comfortable sending you out there alone this late. And if you go now, you’re going to be completely awake by the time you get back home and not able to fall back asleep, then be all off tomorrow. Do you want some comfy pants to sleep in?”

 

She could tell the other woman’s cheeks were heating up but the nod prompted her to stand and head to the dresser, despite her drowsy state. She handed Holtz a pair of red and black checkered flannel and the blonde thanked her before heading to the bathroom attached to Erin’s room and changing.

 

Erin was almost asleep again when Holtz came out of the bathroom, her hair out of it’s bun but pulled up high on top of her head so she wouldn’t be sleeping on bobby pins. She stood hesitantly on the side of the bed. “You’re sure? I can go back to the cou—“

 

Reaching over and tugging her arm, Holtz found herself spread across Erin’s mattress, blushing badly. 

 

“It’s okay, Holtz,” Erin whispered, reaching a hand out to offer Holtz’s a squeeze. She pulled the blankets up over her and scooted a little closer. “Good night.”

 

Holtzmann blinked, her eyes tired once more. “Good night, Erin. Thank you.” Resisting the unexplainable urge to pull Holtz closer and kiss her, Erin merely let sleep take over once again. 

 

She woke up to her alarm at six, trying not to snort a laugh when she pulled herself up and found Holtzmann on her stomach. She was sprawled out on half the bed, the sheet covering the backs of her calves, but pants having been shed to the floor, revealing a pair of green underwear with little turtles printed all over. Unable to hold back a snicker, Erin tugged up the sheet to her waist to save her embarrassment, then gave a gentle shake to her arm. 

 

Holtz pressed her lips together then shook her head, letting out a loud snore. Erin giggled again, tickling the back of the woman’s neck. “Wakey, wakey,” She teased and Holtz whined but opened her eyes, then immediately flushed scarlet upon realizing she was in Erin’s bed. “Were you a little warm?”

 

“‘M always hot at night,” She grumbled, rubbing her face on the plain white pillowcase. “Thanks f’r lettin’ me sleep over.”

 

Erin touched the hair at the back of her neck that had fallen fro the messy bun, making Holtz squirm again. In the back of her mind, she wanted to pull Holtzmann close and kiss her cheek and fall back asleep with the woman. Stuffing the thought, she said, “You can have a few more minutes if you want, I’m going to jump in the shower.”

 

Holtz didn’t respond and with one final chuckle, Erin pulled herself out of bed and into the bathroom. Shedding her pajamas, she found it a little weird to close the door in her home she usually was alone in. Tracing a tattoo on her ribs, she started the water, waiting for it to warm. She smiled again to herself as she considered the reaction Holtzmann might have to finding the large script on her side, then starting an epic journey to find the other four upon learning of them. 

 

By the time Erin stepped into her room with a robe tucked around her and hair wrapped up in a towel, Holtz was awake on the mattress, stretching her body out, the pants back on. “I swear I don’t usually sleep this much,” She said, sheepishly. “Only when ‘Becca puts me on a schedule.”

 

“It’s good for you,” Erin said with a reassuring tone. “Do you want to take a shower?” 

 

“I- Don’t…have my stuff — ?”

 

Rolling her eyes, Erin pulled a clean towel from the closet and said, “Use whatever you need.” 

 

Holtzmann was a little overwhelmed again but nodded and made her way into the bathroom. By the time she stepped out, Erin was dressed in jeans and a navy crewneck sweater, finishing running a comb through her dry hair. 

 

“Want to wear your stuff from yesterday or borrow from me?”

 

“Borrow,” Holtz answered quietly, following Erin into the closet, where she gestured to several selections. 

 

“Sweatshirts — button-downs — tiny bow ties. Dress pants here — yoga pants and jeans are in the dresser. Wear what you want, I know how to track you down.”

 

She hummed to herself as she prepared coffee and started hot water for oatmeal. Opening the fridge, she found her container of berries and poured a cup into two bowls. Making Holtz’s coffee the way the engineer liked it from experience in the lab, she fixed together quick oats. Holtzmann appeared some fifteen minutes after Erin had started, sporting one of the auburn haired woman’s crispy white shirts with said tiny bow tie tucked into a pair of maroon hued flared denim that Erin did not recall the last time she wore. 

 

She tugged on the accessories she’d stripped at the coffee table the night before and eased into the stool next to Erin, looking mortified again as she accepted a spoon for breakfast. “Thanks, Erin,” She mumbled, completely overwhelmed at being taken care of by anyone other than Dr. Gorin. 

 

Caught up in what the older scientist had told her the day before, Erin wanted nothing more than to call in sick and spend the day convincing Holtz to snuggle with her on the sofa and tell her more about herself. “Any time,” She assured her, eating up her oats. 

 

She managed to draw Holtzmann into an easy conversation about Dr. Gorin’s current lab projects and what they’d worked on together when she was further north for the holiday. It was obvious that she adored the time spent with the professor and was going to miss her after the following day.

 

“I love living with her,” She said softly, building some sort of mountain range with the clumps of hot cereal remaining in her bowl. “I know that at thirty-three, I should have this figured out but — she makes it easier to…do — life?”

 

“To take care of yourself,” Erin filled in for her and Holtzmann nodded. 

 

“It’s not lonely when she’s there,” She replied and then flushed upon realizing what she was admitting to feel a majority of the time in that case. “I mean —“

 

“I get it,” Erin assured her, munching a raspberry as piercing blue eyes searched her face. “It’s nice living with someone else. I haven’t in years since I’m so neurotic and haven’t holed in on a reliable roommate, but —“

 

“You’re not neurotic,” Holtz said firmly, leaning over and resting her head against Erin’s shoulder lovingly. Had she not been massively crushing on her, she likely would have kissed the limb as she regularly did to Patty and Abby. “You’re very sweet and anyone would be lucky to be your roommate.” Erin took her turn to blush and nuzzled a little bravely into Holtz, making her squeak and smile doubly wide.

 

X

 

Jillian stepped hesitantly into Dr. Gorin’s house, already feeling like she was imposing and they hadn’t even gone to her dorm to gather her few possessions she’d have to intrude on the space. She took in the entryway, which led upstairs, the walls coated in floral wallpaper — a dark blue background with pink and red flowers popping against it. To the right was the living room, with one bright red wall and the rest a muted tan, pictures from Rebecca’s life and several of her awards decorating the oddly colored space. When Jillian stepped forward and noted a photo of Dr. Gorin, looking not much older than herself in a dazzling white gown, she blurted, “You’re married?!”

 

“Was,” The older woman answered stiffly. “He passed, Eddie, nasty case of the flu a few years ago. Refused to take care of himself and wound up hospitalized and dying within a week.”

 

Feeling incredibly awkward, Jillian scratched at her scalp with her non-wrapped limb and let out a grunt. “I’m, so sorry — I —“

 

“We’d been divorced almost ten years,” She clarified, taking a seat on the sofa, drawing her knee-length lilac sweater to the side first. 

 

Jillian fiddled with her short hair, ruffling it and wincing. “Dr. Gorin, I don’t — maybe I…should…”

 

Rebecca cleared her throat and tugged her new protege down to her side, very directly explaining to her, “Doctor’s orders were for four weeks of care. I’m not one to defy a medical professional.”

 

The younger woman swallowed hard, fighting tears. “But I don’t want to…disrupt…be a burden…”

 

“I understand, Jillian, truly, I do. This is going to be new for you — living with someone who has your best interests in mind.”

 

Frowning as her mood instantly shifted at conversation about her mother, Holtz crossed her arms a little defensively. “My mother loved me.”

 

Pushing a strand of thick, greasy hair back behind her ear so she could see her face, the caretaker assured her, “I don’t doubt that. She loved you more than she could express, if I had to guess, what mother wouldn’t love a daughter as gifted and sweet as you?” Jillian’s cheeks lit up and Rebecca continued. “No, I’m sure your mother loved you dearly. But — I don’t think she knew very well how to take care of someone. Based on the files I’ve been able to read, it doesn't sound like she knew how to take very good care of her self, let alone someone else. Do you agree?” Shrugging, the blonde didn’t indicate otherwise. “I know you can be very successful here. In school — in the field. But you’ve got to be successful at caring for yourself in order to make all that happen.” 

 

“Dr. Gorin,” Jillian’s breath caught in her throat between a lump and a frown before she let out a tear. “I don’t like myself very much.”

 

“Well, that’s unfortunate, Jillian, because I happen to like you very much.” A beat of quiet passed between them and the doctor slid an arm around her student. “You’re going to be just fine. Trust me?” 

 

“With my life,” Jillian said in a whisper before leaning into the open arm and sighing. “Dr. Gorin—“

 

“If you’re going to live here, I’m going to insist on you using my first name.” 

 

“R-Rebecca?” 

 

“That’s it. Don’t let it sound like a curse word, now. Let’s take a tour of the rest of the house, shall we?” 

 

She took Jillian’s upper arm and led her around the cozy home, her posture perfect, arms sweeping like Dr. Gorin had been a ballerina in a former life. She showed the eccentric mouse that would be living with her to the kitchen what was decorated in personalized, handcrafted cuckoo clocks. Holtz was flushed with wonder as she stared at the homemade devices and asked if she could take one apart to figure out how it was made some time. 

 

They toured the second floor, which was three bedrooms. The smallest was a small office space, which had a new desk in a box waiting to be assembled. “I don't like having papers on my kitchen table and there’s no television until work is finished, so you’ll do your homework here.” The perimeter of the room was surrounded in thick textbooks and boxes of papers and journals, all organized by subject, then year. There were some of Rebecca’s small prototypes on display as well, Jillian eagerly taking them in. She asked a dozen questions about each, the older woman had plenty of patience to answer them and encourage her when she grew brain children of her own stemming from Rebecca’s original concepts. 

 

It was nearly an hour of gushing over the brilliant inventions of her mentor before the other woman asked, “Would you like to see your room?”

 

Biting her lip, Jillian nodded and followed after tucking her hair behind her ears nervously again. 

 

At the end of the hall, two doors stood opposite one another, both closed. Rebecca opened her own first, a master suite with a mirrored door closet. Jillian felt the room reflected the woman the least, but aside to recharge at night, she supposed there likely wasn’t much time that she spent there.

 

Such was her own. Jillian entered her bedroom and was surprised to find her items from the dorm had already been moved in. A full size bed was pushed up against a wall, a light green and blue quilt tucked up across it. The nightstand had her alarm clock and the one picture she had in a frame; herself and her beautiful, equally blue-eyed mother, taken on a first grade field trip to an apple orchard. They were sitting on pumpkins in the patch, Jillian looking like the ragamuffin she was in the first year of the nineties decade, wearing overalls and a black and white striped shirt underneath, hair unbrushed, nestled against her mother’s chest. 

 

She smiled, touching the photo before noting her clothes were all neatly stored in the small dresser near the closet, her stack of X-Files VHS tapes neatly displayed next to a few science trophies and ribbons she collected. “Thanks, Dr. — er, Rebecca,” Jillian finally spoke and stood sheepishly and moved towards her mentor’s side. 

 

That evening after catching up on some of the work she’d missed in her courses during her stay in the hospital, having a mouth-watering dinner that Dr. Gorin cooked up and taking her first real shower in a few days, despite the awkward position of her saran wrapped bandage. She was sitting with damp hair in the living room, a blanket around her legs as she sped through a few chapters of the literature assignment she was past-due on. 

 

Rebecca joined her a few minutes later, carrying a cup of tea along with her antibiotic she’d been given to ward off infection in the wound. “Nine-thirty is tea-time,” She said simply, lifting her own mug and book as she, too, began reading. 

 

“Every night?” Jillian blinked, not too fond of the substance in the cup.

 

“You’ll learn to like it. It’s good for you. And yours has lavender in it — to help you sleep better.” 

 

She choked down the tea, and sure enough, but quarter after ten o’clock, Jillian was feeling fuzzy and ready for bed. She wiped at an eye as Dr. Gorin washed their teacups and sent her upstairs while she double checked the locks on the house and turned off the downstairs lights.

 

Jillian was a little mystified as she brushed her teeth in the spare bathroom upstairs, which she supposed was now hers, then prepared to climb into bed. Rebecca stood in her doorway, ushering her in. “If you need anything,” She stated calmly, “Just wake me. And I mean it, _anything_.” 

 

Nodding, Jillian moved to her new room, shimmying out of her pajama pants after getting under the blankets and turning off the nightstand lamp. She sighed and pulled her hands over her chest, somehow willing the world to swallow her whole as she struggled to understand all that had happened with Rebecca those last twenty-four hours. 

 

Laying awake for some forty-odd minutes, she was surprised when hinges of her slightly cracked door squeaked and she was able to make out a mass of fur in the dim light casting between the slits in the blinds. A cat lunged onto the bed and paced back and forth before curling into itself with the few extra feet of space Jillian wasn’t using. She giggled and pet the presumably brown fur before hearing the door swing open even more and an orange tabby strolled through like he owned the place (though certainly did more than Jillian, for all she knew, she was invading their own personal room).

 

A sleepy-faced Rebecca joined the party a minute or so later and Jillian let out a little gasp at the sight of her hair down, long curly brown and speckled grey tendrils framing her face. “I see you’ve met Mr. Beatty and Lise.” Lise moved to the professor’s lap, curling her brown tail around herself. “I figured they might not take well to their personal space being invaded.”

 

“I like cats,” Jillian answered quickly, squishing Mr. Beatty’s fur down. “So much fluff.”

 

“They’re typically friendly,” The doctor assured her. “If they bother you, just close your door.”

 

“’S okay,” She grinned in response. “Dr. Gorin —“

 

“Rebecca.”

 

“—can I hug you goodnight?”

 

There was silence for a moment that earned Holtzmann’s near shameful blush, but before she knew it, a cat was thrust back to the mattress and she was drawn into her new caretaker’s arms.The embrace was reassuring, warm, and made her feel safe. “You don’t need to ask,” Rebecca assured her. 

 

X

 

Erin walked by the third floor lounge, stutter-stepping outside the door when she heard the sound of Holtz’s heart breaking inside. “Do you really have to go?”

 

“You know I do. The new semester starts Monday, Jillian.”

 

There was a lull and some shuffling before Erin gathered that Holtzmann, who laughed at injuries and safety procedures gone wrong, was actually crying.

 

“It’s just been really nice with you,” She stated, her voice cracking. 

 

“I agree. Having you back in my home and being here with you has made me very happy. Three weeks makes it easy to fall back into some sort of routine. You could keep it up for yourself, you know.”

 

Erin casually and bravely pushed through the swinging doors, finding Holtz on the sofa with her head in Gorin’s lap, the older woman’s arm strewn over her shoulder in comfort. Offering an sympathetic expression, she made her way to the refrigerator. Taking out a vanilla pudding cup and then a package of animal crackers from the cupboard, Erin handed both to Holtz and forced a smile out of her as she sat up, peeling back the lid of the pudding and dipping the animals in face first. “Thanks, Erin.”

 

“Three o’clock snack break,” She winked, taking a clementine out of the refrigerator for herself and offering one for Dr. Gorin who politely refused. Sliding into the open space next to Holtzmann now that she was vertical, Erin peeled the cutie, forcing a slice into Holtz’s palm, earning a gasp as she stole one of her vanilla-coated crackers. 

 

“How dare you give me something nutritious?”

 

Rebecca scoffed and brought Holtz’s wrist with the fruit in her hand up to her mouth, making her fake cry as she ate it. “I think I’m putting Dr. Gilbert personally in charge of your nutrition, Jillian. Erin — is this a challenge you can take?”

 

“Oh, absolutely,” She said with a conniving smirk as Holtz protested with a long whine. “I’ll even report back when she’s been bad.”

 

“Traitor,” Holtz mumbled, swallowing the citrus and returning to plunging crackers into their sticky doom. 

 

“If I have to force feed you dinner every night, I’ll do it,” Erin teased, lining up the slices of her clementine perfectly along the ridges of the paper towel in her lap before eating them. 

 

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Holtz said with a glare and Erin pretended to be shocked at the expression. 

 

Dr. Gorin stood, sensing the intense flirting in the room and wanting to leave them to it. “I’m going to check the readings on your wireless CU meter. Come join me when you’re ready?”

 

Nodding, Holtz watched her back and suddenly felt very small as she sniffed loudly to hold back her tears. Erin gave her back a gentle pat before stating, “Look up MIT’s spring break, maybe you can visit then?”

 

“She’ll be in Baltimore, big conference,” Holtz mumbled miserably — she’d already thought that through. “I usually spend some of Christmas with her, but this is the longest in a few years. I didn’t know how much I’d missed her until she was almost gone again.”

 

Her eyes were glassy and Erin wanted to offer anything she could to keep her from crying; she wasn’t sure she could stand the sight. 

 

“Hey, but she’s right, you know? You just need to put yourself into more of a routine — quit staying here until midnight or over night. I know there will be days you inevitably get caught up in it, I do it to, but I’ve got my routine at night, and ghost-pending, I like sticking to it.”

 

“What would I do with myself?” She refuted, finishing the last cracker before dipping her tongue into the plastic cup and licking the rest of the pudding out, ignoring Erin’s grimace. 

 

“Well — when I leave here, I usually make something for dinner or pick it up, depending on the night, then I take care of any housekeeping like dishes or laundry. I do some reading or writing, then I have a show almost every night on at nine o’clock on some channel, or I’ll watch something on Netflix. I just relax, with a big comfy blanket and tea.”

 

Holtz pouted, wondering, “How do you turn your brain off?”

 

Tilting her head to the side, Erin thought she’d just explained that but she tried another approach. “I guess I got something out of years of therapy,” She started in a light tone as she finished the last of her fruit then threw the paper towel away, washing her hands and returning to sit, closer and facing Holtz. “Learning to detach from what’s bothering you.”

 

Holtz blinked a few times, touching her collar bone which was sticking out slightly as the top two buttons of her paisley print shirt were undone. “Inventing things doesn’t bother me though.”

 

“To an extent it does,” Erin argued, “If you can’t get it off your mind.”

 

Frowning again, Holtzmann slouched as she pondered the wise words. Drawing her feet to the cushion, she started chewing on the empty plastic cup before Erin eventually could take no more and without malice, tossed it in the trash before lingering near the door. “I know tonight’s your last night with Dr. Gorin. Go make the most of it. Tomorrow’s Friday — let’s do something fun, me and you?”

 

Rubbing her earlobe as her cheeks flushed, Holtz nodded. “What do you want to do?”

 

Erin rubbed her palms together, surprised at her own boldness. She wasn’t sure if Holtzmann was going to interpret her desires as a date, but certainly wasn’t minding either way. “Depends, do you want to go out or stay in?”

 

“Mm — honestly?” She winced, feeling lame but ready to be snuggled up if that’s what they were in for. “Stay in.”

 

Chuckling, Erin nodded and bit her lip in a smile before wondering, “Want to come over again?”

 

“Um, yeah!” Holtz stood up, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she stuffed her hands in her pocket and tried to ward off another blush. “I can bring a backpack full of treats if you want.”

 

“What kind of treats?”

 

“Fun stuff,” Holtz winked as she got a little braver at the notion of spending time alone with Erin. “Stuff you’ll like. Promise.”

 

“Good,” Erin pushed the door open. “See, you already have something to look forward to.”

 

Holtz was red in the face as she followed Erin out, wondering how much she should let on that excitement didn’t even begin to cover her feelings toward the upcoming evening.

 

X

 

Holtzmann had her arms hooked around Dr. Gorin so tightly at the train station, Erin supposed it was a wonder the older woman was breathing. “Jillian,” She choked and the little blonde ball of energy let her go with a loud sniff. “None of this,” The auburn haired woman heard, then observed as Rebecca’s hands came up to wipe Holtz’s cheeks. “I’ll see you in a few months.”

 

“I love you,” Holtz managed sadly and Erin merely crossed her arms as she waited for the goodbyes to end. 

 

“I love you very much, Jillian. Take care of yourself,” She flickered her gaze up to Erin, her smile stretching a little more. “And let your friends help you with that, too.”

 

Holtz covered her eyes with the heels of her hands as Dr. Gorin boarded her train and in a few minutes, it was off. Hooking an arm around Holtz’s shoulders, Erin pulled her sweetly to her side, wishing she could press a kiss to the top of her head or some other gesture which would make her feel better. 

 

Pulling herself together, Holtzmann wiped her face with her shirt sleeve. Erin ignored the act as she popped her yellow-lensed, thick-framed glasses from their perch on the top of her head to her eyes. “Ready?”

 

“Yeah,” She sighed, sniffing one more time for measure and sheepishly adding, “Thank you for coming with me. It’s tough saying goodbye.”

 

Erin tugged her mittens on as they prepared to leave the station, glancing at Holtz who only had on a black leather jacket. “Don’t you have something to put on your hands? Or a warmer jacket?”

 

“Probably — somewhere. I don’t know.” Again— Dr. Gorin’s words would ring true; she did need help taking care of herself.

 

They caught a bus back to the firehouse, where as soon as they’d settled in to work for the afternoon, the alarm sounded, blaring at an uncomfortable octave that drove them all into motion. Erin’s blood pressure immediately went up as she mentally psyched herself for what could possibly be heading their way. The government managed without them for their Christmas holiday, using the technology Holtzmann had invented for police officers when they weren’t available. She was excited to get back into action.

 

Greenwich Village was only a twenty minute drive through the January chill. Holtzmann was fiddling with the radio as she drove, Erin watching her nervously from the back, where she’d pressed herself into Patty’s side, trying to get warm. “Yo, DJ Holtzy, how ‘bout pickin’ a song and cranking the heat up back here.”

 

“Holtzy-Heatmiser at your service!” She said in a gobbled-sounding voice. Erin felt the little blast from the vent near her knees at the middle of the hearse and the one above. “Toasty Pattycakes, comin’ right up.”

 

Holtz hummed along with the 80s power ballad while Patty fidgeted with the tablet in her hands, spewing out information about the abandoned library-turned-studio which was supposedly being haunted.

 

“It’s a small place,” She stated, “It shouldn’t take us too long.”

 

Oh, two hours later, how Erin wished she hadn’t said that. 

 

They’d been stalking a single human-based apparition for an hour, but upon trapping it, activated a series of seemingly never-ending specters looking for revenge. They were running out of traps and Erin hadn’t seen Patty or Abby in almost thirty minutes.

 

“Holtz!” She screeched suddenly as Holtz was thrown flat onto her belly, groaning and trying to regulate her air intake as the movement knocked the wind out of her. Her glasses flew off her face and landed on the other side of the room. 

 

Meanwhile, full of a sudden blast of rage at the sight of her injured friend, Erin wrangled the disgruntled spirit that was trying to cause havoc on the new owners of the art studio. She did her best to avoid extensive damage by trying to mainly use her proton wand instead of the fancy side-arms which tended to cause more destruction.

 

“Holtz, activate the trap!” She called out, and though she was still gasping and struggling to breathe, Holtz slammed the button on her arm and the trap thankfully moved to her left side. She shouted, “Open!” And the blonde complied. Erin made a strangled sound as she wrestled a non-human appearing form of a ionized creature with wings and a single, beady eye into the container. It snapped shut automatically and despite being out of breath herself, Erin rushed to Holtz’s side. Moving the trap into the holder, she peeled the straps of Holtz’s pack off and rubbed her back soothingly for a moment. She encouraged her breathing as Holtz had her hands on her knees, eyes still somewhat unfocused.

 

Once she seemed to be in a little better shape, Erin left her to retrieve her glasses, letting out a sobering, “Oh, no,” at the state of the mangled steel sides and cracked yellow lens.

 

Holtz forced herself to stand and pouted at the sight. Shaking her head, she tucked them into her breast pocket and lifted a shoulder. “Thanks, Erin.”

 

The physicist was caught up in checking the PKE now meter in her hand as she examined the basement room they were in for any additional metaphysical energy readings. “I think we’re clear down here. Do you think you’re ready to take the stairs?”

 

Nodding, she hoisted her coveted, patented technology and followed her friend up, wincing at the harsh fluorescent light of the main floor. Abby and Patty were speaking with a police officer and one of the studio owners, and Erin hoped that meant they were finished.

 

“We were just coming to find you!” Patty called out, “You guys okay? Holtz, baby where’s your specs?”

 

“Broke,” She said monotonously, fishing into a side pocket and unclipping the red carabiner clip from the hook she’d sewed on the inside. “Can you drive?”

 

“Sure, sweet pea — don’t worry, you’ll have ‘em fixed up in no time.”

 

Erin noted her disappointed face and nodded to the hearse outside while Abby finished up her conversation. Following the social cue, Holtz trailed behind her, a hand jammed in her pocket as she observed Erin shivering before they even hit the icy evening air.

 

“You need to get something to wear under your jumpsuit in the winter,” She commented after opening the second row door for the woman before sliding in herself. 

 

Shooting a look at her rolled sleeves, Erin visibly shook and questioned, “How can you not be cold?”

 

“‘Cause I’m so hot,” She managed to tease before sitting down and remembering the broken frames in her pocket. Taking them out to examine, she let out a sigh, then glanced at the time on her watch. “Would you mind if I brought one of my mini-soldering irons over?”

 

“Sure,” Erin grinned through clattering teeth, remembering what was coming next.

 

They paused only briefly to unload and lock up the fire house for the weekend while Holtz ensured she had what tiny tools she needed in a mini kit stuffed into her bag. She joined Erin at the stairwell, sneaking out together after shouting out their good-byes instead of getting dragged into explaining what they’d be doing.

 

After picking up takeout and heading to Erin’s apartment, Erin was finally warm again as they shifted into comfy clothes. She dove into a pair of old sweats and a Michigan sweatshirt that was threadbare and cozy with a pair of slipper boots, while Holtzmann was in a paint-speckled pair of gray stretch pants and a Star Wars hoodie, bare feet happy in Erin’s plush rug. Spreading out a variety of dinner choices from a Chinese restaurant, the two began to take what they wanted on the square, plain white plates in Erin’s ceramic collection. Holtz put in a movie she’d brought with her, promising Erin she’d enjoy the sci-fi flick. She set up shop on the older woman’s coffee table, doing her best to save the frames, knowing she’d have to have the lens repaired professionally. Crawling back up to the couch to finish the film as she did all she could, Holtz dared place herself right next to the lady of her affections.

 

When the space journey ended and a twenty minute long conversation about the theoretical possibility of manned deep space travel wrapped, Holtz slid a game of Dead Man’s Draw from her duffle bag. Teaching Erin to play was predictably easy; her reaction to the game was anything but typical. 

 

She lost the first few hands as she adjusted to the rules and cards, then started to maliciously insist on winning. They battled it out for nearly two hours before Holtz started to doze off during their hand.

 

“C’mon, bed time,” Erin insisted, tugging Holtz’s arm as the younger woman tried to protest. She found herself back on the floor when Holtzmann’s gravity brought her down, giggling. The sleepy scientist starved off a yawn. 

 

“I gotta get back in the game. It’s only eleven o’clock and this is ridiculous.” 

 

“Want to know a secret?” Erin whispered and Holtz popped up with renewed energy. 

 

Laughing again, Erin scooted over to mumble in her ear, “On Mondays there’s nothing to watch and I go to bed at nine.”

 

Holtz chuckled and blinked rapidly in exhaustion. “Rebecca got me in bed at ten last night ‘cause I was all weepy. Said I could cry into my pillow. But — you’re right — I should probably go.”

 

Erin reached an arm over her friend to draw her into an awkward-angled hug that made her let out a meowing sound. “Holtzmann, I want you to stay.”

 

Holtz rested her forehead near Erin’s collarbone, making her glasses press uncomfortably close to her face, but she allowed it as she accepted the snuggle. “Why, Erin?”

 

“Because I care about you and I want you to be okay and you’re sad and a sad Holtzy just isn’t right.”

 

Sitting up and squaring herself so she was sitting on her feet, Holtzmann mindlessly traced the maize hued _M_ on Erin’s sweatshirt. A minute of quiet passed and she awkwardly blurted, “You _do_ know that I _like_ you, right?” 

 

Erin caught her hand, just before it could get to the _I_ and held it between her own. “I know,” She said assuredly, sitting up and offering a slightly bashful smile. “And maybe — the first time you sort of sprang it on me, I was a little…beside myself — you know, we talked about that.” Holtz’s neck turned scarlet and she fixed her gaze on anything but Erin, going so far as to try and wiggle her hands out of the woman’s grasp. Erin let it go, not wanting her to be uncomfortable, but knowing at the point they were, she had to start exhibiting true honesty. “But it’s been a few months, I know you better. I know myself better, really and…I just — want to keep getting to know you. Not Holtzmann, not the silly scientist, badass ghost fighter. I want to know the _Jillian_ that Dr. Gorin knows, and I think Abby knows part of her, too. I want to know who you are.” 

 

Holtz let out a long breath that Erin thought should have sounded a little more relieved than it did. “Er, I don’t know if you’re going to like Jillian very much.”

 

Winking boldly, Erin suggested, “How about you let me get to know her and I’ll decide?”

 

She watched Holtzmann go through a whole series of awkward body movements — tugging her earlobe, scratching her neck, ruffling her own hair. Then, Holtzmann squeezed her eyes shut and blurted out, “Do you even like girls, Erin?”

 

Though she was surely the one who aught to have felt anything close to awkward given the circumstances, Erin realized just how uncomfortable she’d made Holtzmann and felt more of an obligation to give her straight, true answers — how unlike herself — and take the burden off. “I haven’t had a lot of luck with romantic relationships in the past,” She started honestly. “Mostly with men. I…” Wincing at her own history, she shrugged. “I’ve been with a few girls, Holtz. But — quietly. I wasn’t…am not…really _out_.”

 

Holtz’s breath caught in her throat and she blinked a quick look in her friend’s direction. “So are you…how…how do you label yourself?”

 

Erin bit her lip and rolled her fingertips against her palms. “I…don’t…I tried to convince myself…I…” Shaking her head once, she shrugged and admitted, “When I’ve had to think about it, Ichucked it up to being bisexual, I guess, if I’ve had to label it emotionally for myself — though I know there’s a whole bunch of terms for different orientations and attractions now.”

 

“There are,” Holtz nodded.

 

“Well, maybe we’ll have to do some research then,” She said with a lopsided grin. 

 

Holtzmann let out an approving hum and asked, “So — you _do_ like girls. And…want to get to know me better…what are you proposing?”

 

Wishing she had the answer, Erin merely lifted her shoulders once more. “The more I get to know you, the more time I spend with you…I find you funnier, sweeter, more sincere. You seem to really care about me. I guess — I want to date you? Maybe we make an effort to spend Friday nights together?”

 

Wondering if she’d already fallen asleep and was experiencing a torturous dream, Holtz pinched herself on the top of her wrist, hissing at the half-broken skin. Raising a brow, Erin stared. “You don’t have to answer now. How about — take tonight, sleep on it?” Erin shifted so she was on her feet, then pulled Holtzmann slowly to her own, hoping the awkwardness she was feeling wasn’t too evident on her face. “And if you really want to go, I won’t pressure you to stay,” Her voice was soft and there was sincerity in her eyes and smile that Holtzmann could read in a quick look at her. 

 

She was quiet and they were close. In a slow movement, she gave a firm nod. “I’d like to stay.”

 

Erin’s grin grew and she threaded their fingers together before giving a little tug to Holtzmann’s. “The toothbrush you used Thursday is still in the holder. I’m going to set the security system. Code is 09-10-93, so you know.”

 

Holtzmann snorted, “X-Files premiere date, you nerd.”

 

“It was a very important day in the life of Abby and I,” Erin teased, giving Holtz a gentle push before she wandered down the hall to the master bathroom. With a relieved breath out, she armed the apartment before making her usual walk around to ensure all the lights were out and dishes cleared away. 

 

Erin joined her friend in the bathroom, washing her face before bushing her teeth. Holtzmann was working on the task of taking her hair down only to pull it all back up with just the ponytail. Just before she gathered it up, Erin got a real grasp for how long it was. And the indisputable desire to tug on it. Shaking her head she rinsed the toothpaste from her mouth and commented, “I’m sure you think it’s a pain, but your hair is really beautiful.”

 

Taking the second-to-last pin out, Holtz felt her cheeks glow again. Ruffling the locks, she offered a mutter of a thanks before pulling it all up in a single elastic at the top of her head. Leaving for the master bedroom, she stepped out of her sweatpants, she revealed a pair of small, cotton athletic shorts underneath, knowing she was going to get warm. Erin finished her routine and joined her, turning on the fairy lights.

 

“I like your nightlight,” Holtzmann said in a non-teasing tone. 

 

“Thanks,” Erin took her turn to blush. “Ever since…I was haunted — I haven’t been able to sleep in the dark. Abby and I had a really fun lava lamp in college…though now that I think about it, I wonder if someone has been secretly harvesting ghost slime for years to fill them with.”

 

Holtz gave a little gasp at the concept. “I’m doing it. I’m making you a ghost slime lava lamp.”

 

She grinned and walked around to crawl into the side of the bed she usually slept on, then questioned, “Was that enough blankets for you last time? I’ve got extra.”

 

Holtz hoisted herself into the bed and offered a sheepish look. “I don’t even need this much. I get really hot at night.”

 

Sliding down and getting comfortable under her own mass of comfort, Erin rolled to her side and Holtz followed her. 

 

There was a long beat and they simply stared at one another before Holtz swallowed thickly and questioned, “Can I give you a hug goodnight?”

 

Erin didn’t respond with words, merely pulled Holtz over herself so they were both chuckling in the deep snuggle. 

 

“Rebecca gave me those glasses,” Holtz admitted quietly after a few minutes of the long cuddle. “For Christmas, when I first met her. She noticed me struggling in the bright lights of the lab and wearing the orange kind that dentists do. I loved them so much I never wanted to take them off. When I did, I realized how sensitive I was to all different kinds of lighting. I’ve had a lot of pairs, but…those round ones are my favorite.”

 

Erin understood, keeping Holtz pulled half-way over her chest as she spoke. “Anytime someone who’s special to me gives me something, I treasure it — probably too much. And…when it’s gone, I feel like part of my relationship with them is gone. So — that’s why I was so sad about the glasses.”

 

Rubbing Holtz’s arm assuredly, Erin said, “Thank you for sharing that with me. I get it — I still have a whole box of stuff from high school that Abby and I did together or that she got me over the years. And I take this really great Swiss Army Knife with me everywhere that some really awesome chick got for me.”

 

Holtz popped up, her face split in a smile. “Really?” 

 

While she was hovering over her slightly, Erin wanted inexplicably to wrap her arms around the smaller woman and pull her into a kiss. Knowing that was not the safest or wisest course of action, she settled on hooking them around Holtz’s shoulders to tug her back down to her chest, continuing the embrace that never ended. “Good night, Holtz.”


	2. Chapter 2

_February, 2002 — Atwood Tavern, Massachusetts_

 

Dr. Rebecca Gorin was not one to find herself in a seedy, college pub. But after the week she’d had, she was grateful when a Princeton colleague asked to meet her for lunch while he was in town. “Dr. Brennen, it is always good to see you,” She said, accepting the clink to her glass he offered. “And what timing.”

 

“Seems so — I hear you brought home a stray.” The man smirked, his dark features accented by the dim light overhead. 

 

“Oh, and _how_.” She shook her head, loose curls falling from her bun. She was looking as ragged as she felt. Over the course of the first half of the second semester they were in, Jillian was on probation in her biology class for lack of attendance, was failing her literature course, and had been caught by campus police twice, once for participating in a fight and the other for possession of marijuana. Rebecca had just spent her morning using her status at the school to have the record erased, and she was all but complete at her wit’s end for dealing with the rebellious bundle of energy that she’d intentionally put in her care.

 

Dr. Brennen leaned back in his chair a little, sizing his professional equal for the poor decision she’d seemed to have made. They’d been colleagues and personal friends for ages — but competition always remained between them. Still, knowing what he did about the woman he’d worked with for nearly thirty years, he softly wondered, “Are you regretting not having tried again for a child?”

 

“No,” She said sternly. Rebecca was quite insistent that she would never feel badly about her personal choice to not use her body as a baby-making factory. After one failed pregnancy, she was not going to take on the invasive, time-exhausting methods it would have required at the time to conceive a possible baby. She’d never wanted children anyway. Shifting the subject back to it’s original context, she explained, “The student that I’ve brought in, Jillian, is absolutely, without doubt, the most brilliant mind I’ve ever met. You should see her tests! There is so much raw potential in her, it honestly startles me the things she could do. She’s expressed interest in working at CERN already and I’m scared for the Swiss. She has an estimated IQ of one hundred sixty-three. I have a feeling it’s higher.”

 

He rubbed a hand on his cheek. “Damn!” He laughed. “Does she have a clue?”

 

“Not _one_.” Rebecca groaned. “She knows she’s smart but she has no idea that there are likely only ten people in the known _world_ with more intelligence potential than she has. Oh — she’s a freakin’ _mess_.” Chuckling again, Dr. Brennen crossed his arms while she continued. “Just trying to get her to sit down and eat a meal with a half ounce of manners is impossible. I can’t take her anywhere with me.”

 

“I don’t know, ‘Becca, sounds an awful lot like mothering to me.”

 

Setting her face stone solid she assured him, the last thing she wanted to be was Jillian Holtzmann’s mother. “Mentor, not mother.”

 

“Okay, I get the mentoring deal, but, how’d she wind up living with you? Somehow I don’t think she just moved herself in.”

 

Clearing her throat, Rebecca explained the lab incident and the need for after care. “I think she’d probably have been kicked out of on-campus housing by now. She wouldn’t be able to afford an apartment. And, though my efforts have been pitiful at best, at least I know she’s eating somewhat of a nutritious diet and sleeping on occasion.”

 

“Sounds like mama bear just needs to lay down the law a little harder,” He stated with a wink. “If she’s as smart as you say, she should be able to figure out, her actions have consequences.”

 

Shrugging, Rebecca picked at her meal as it arrived. “Now, it’s not her fault. Her mother was a severe alcoholic and Jillian was in and out of foster care from the time she was two. Piss-broke rural schools, no-show dad, it’s really amazing she _did_ find her academic niche. But, god if I’m not absolutely _exhausted_.”

 

“I just had similar student,” Dr. Brennen said, still in his good mood. “She was sweet as can be. But much the same; brilliant, but a social disaster. So awkward...Erin struggled with just opening my office door almost every time she came in.” 

 

“What do we do with them?” Rebecca wondered out loud.

 

He snickered and joked, “We could put them in a ring and make them fight each other to see who’s more of a mess.”

 

“Jillian would win — I don’t know your student, I don’t need to. Jillian is a wild animal.”

 

“She’s also only eighteen, though, Rebecca. Give her a little time, and a whole lotta guidance. Mine was already a graduate student — probably a lost cause, socially. Academically? Eh, there’s enough ambition there for success. Anyway — I think you’ll be surprised with yourself at what you can make her do.” 

 

The lunch continued on and just as she was about to take it on a more positive spin, the pager on her waistband went off. Groaning, she noted the number — academic services.

 

“Oh, Jillian, what have you done now?”

 

“Do you need to go?” Dr. Brennen questioned and Rebecca tossed her fork down, assuming she was through with her meal, prepared to toss money on the table when the man insisted he had the bill. Stuffing herself into her crisp coat, she set her face in a scowl, prepared to deal with the monkey on her back in any way she had to. 

 

X

 

Erin giggled and took a sip of her Juicy Juice box and bite of Mac & Cheese. She and Holtzmann were enjoying their third Friday night together in Erin’s apartment. After a passing comment from Holtz during the week about “wanting to be a kid again,” she’d promised for one-night-only, they could at least pretend. She prepared a smorgasbord of kid foods and Holtz was looking at it all with heart eyes as she loaded a plate full of chicken nuggets, macaroni, PB&J, and smiley face tater tots. After pressing the play button on Erin’s SmartTV and loading the DVD of her favorite childhood movie, she warned Erin, “It’s kind of trippy.”

 

“Somehow, I’m not surprised,” Erin responded with another little laugh. Childhood hadn’t been easy most of the time for either of them, but together as they pretended, the night turned out to be the best. 

 

By the time they got to Erin’s pick, they were cuddled on the couch under a blanket, Holtz strewn partially around her favorite human, despite being a little overly warm. They snuggled and hugged, never taking it further — not yet at least. Both of them seemed to understand, the balance in their newfound relationship needed time to shift and change. 

 

They talked quietly throughout the movie, comments that lead to short stories from times well before they’d met. Each story anecdote shared brought them closer to seeing the whole picture of each other.

 

Erin’s phone rang near the end of the film. Realizing it was a monthly phone call from her father, she promised to keep it short while she stepped into her spare room, sitting in her office chair. Holtz slipped off the sofa after she left, crawling over to a bookshelf that was neatly organized with various texts. She’d been hoping for a few minutes alone at some point to investigate her love interest’s book collection for several weeks. 

 

The books were sorted by subject then alphabetized, the shelves accented with a few modest knickknacks, including several of Erin’s awards and a photo of the four of them in a frame. Holtz grinned as she lifted the black plastic, noting the way her arm was slid around Erin’s shoulders and she was leaning into the side embrace, even back in November. Another frame, a little larger, showed Erin and what she assumed was her family — a tall, lanky dad in a business suit with a dark mustache, a slender mom in a horrid seventies print yellow and green dress, and a preschool-aged Erin between them, smiling shyly in her burgundy corduroy jumper. Holtzmann wondered what a life like that might’ve been like. 

 

Placing it back on the dust-free shelf, Holtz skimmed through physics titles, then astrology, before becoming surprised to stumble upon a shelf full of fiction and prose.

 

Humming to herself, she fingered the spine of a book entitled “Your Soul is a River.” Lifting her glasses to perch on top of her head, she thumbed through the pages. She soon found herself lost in the verses of poetry, the tug on her lips impossible to keep down. The poems were so very Erin, it was obvious why she enjoyed the collection. 

 

She didn’t realize how long she was wrapped herself in the words until a pair of arms encircled her shoulders and a chin rested on her shoulder. “I see you’ve found my dirty secret,” Erin teased.

 

“I love fiction — not just science fiction. And poetry. We all need art — that’s no secret.”

 

Shaking her head, surprised at the depth of Holtzmann’s statement, Erin stretched out next to her. “My mentor at Princeton told me I needed to diversity my interests in my free time. Thought it would help me connect more to other people. I don’t think it worked, but I found myself interested in different anthologies and writers — mostly modern ones, but some classics.”

 

Snorting through her nose, Holtz understood all too well. “Rebecca made me pursue other hobbies as well. Sometime I’ll bring you to my place and show you some of my paintings. I mean, they’re not very good but — I try.”

 

“You paint?” Erin’s expression changed to such pure interest, Holtz found herself flushing and trying to brush it off. 

 

“I tried writing my own book and even some poetry, but I had a hard time taking my thoughts to paper that weren’t just numbers and blueprints. Painting was easier to pull out of my head. I haven’t done any in a long time though.” Holtz smiled, sheepishly raising the anthology she was holding and asked, “Read me some? Books always sound better out loud.”

 

Erin shrugged and moved to take the collection of poems. She curled around and wiggled until she was all but in Holtzmann’s lap, leaning against her chest. The blonde was rosy cheeked once more at the closeness and boldness that the woman who she was crushing on continued to exude. Putting her arms appropriately on Erin’s knees to keep them in place, she waited for her to come across a poem which spoke so clearly to her.

 

She cleared her throat after finding one of her favorites and began to read. “I look at you sometimes and wonder: how can a broken thing be so pretty? Can the whole sun be captured in the human body? Can darkness become one with light? Would the universe allow a star to burn this bright? Does the earth have it in itself to hold this much beauty? And whilst looking at you, I learn; you are living proof that fire can rise again, even from cold ashes.”

 

Erin felt Holtz shiver against her. Looking up and back, she wanted so badly to press a sweet kiss to her lips, but merely turned a few pages to another of the poems that she held in her heart. “At some point, you thought they are right and you are wrong. You aren’t a survivor. Instead, you are an unpredictable thing made of hurt and pain. Stop. You are so much more. You see, you may be damaged and broken and unhinged, but so are shooting stars and comets.” 

 

Holtzmann stuttered a breath. Between the imagery in the text and the gentle, lullaby-like cadence of Erin’s reading voice, it was like hearing a spell cast over her — forcing her to fall even more in love with the woman than she already had.

 

Erin paused before turning closer to the end, past a black section entitled ‘Heal.’ With a hand on top of the one that was on her leg, she slowly read it, almost a wish out loud. “You don’t have to prove to anyone just how tough you are. You are still here, and you are still alive, despite all of life’s storms and tornadoes and hurricanes. You have weathered them all like a grand old oak tree, and you are still here, you are still alive. And if that isn’t tough, I don’t know what is.”

 

At that, Erin watched in slow motion as the book was gently pried from her hands and neatly lined back in the place of the shelf. Holtzmann put a hand on her hip and the other on her cheek as Erin turned automatically into her. Hooded blue eyes stared practically into her soul. Though she had to remind herself to breathe, Erin wasn’t sure she needed to as Holtzmann made her feel like the very galaxy she was made up of in that moment. 

 

The thumb along her jaw bone moved slowly and Holtzmann drew her face a little closer, wondering out loud, “Would you be uncomfortable if I kissed you?”

 

“No,” Erin whispered in response, her eyes fluttering shut. 

 

A second later, a pair of soft lips were on her own and the hand on her face slid up and she moaned a perfect sound of pleasure. Holtz’s grip on her waist tightened and everything in the universe suddenly made sense. She pushed into the kiss, wanting to deepen it already, but also wanting to make the moment of perfection last and not risk shaking the tender intimacy that was building. 

 

She let Holtzmann pull away, her own hand coming to rest on the younger woman’s shoulder as she breathed deeply through her mouth. Blinking her eyes open, she met Holtz’s nervous gaze and assured her that the action had been perfect by pressing another kiss to her lips — just a quick peck initiated by herself and explaining through anything but awkward words, it had been perfect.

 

Holtz’s body was radiating heat much warmer than what was blasting through her vents. She was sure that her own temperature on top of it all was making her far too hot, but Erin couldn’t bring herself to move. There was a moment there, one the likes of which she’d never experienced before. The silence spoke volumes, of more beautiful poetry than she could ever find in books or tattoo to her body. Brushing her fingers along Holtzmann’s neck, Erin closed her eyes again and leaned in for another long, sweet kiss.

 

She pulled away first that time. 

 

“Erin?” Holtz started in a low, elevated voice — a pitch depicting she was a little nervous.

 

Leaning her face forward so their foreheads were touching, the auburn haired woman smiled and kissed her once more. “Yes?”

 

Feeling less hesitant, Holtzmann declared, “You can call me Jillian, if you want to.” 

 

Pressing her lips together and to the side, Erin shrugged, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s what Dr. Gorin calls you.” She nuzzled a little closer and sighed contently. “How about Jill?”

 

“Hm,” The blonde shrugged and smiled with full teeth. “I’ve never been anyone’s Jill before…I think I can be your Jill.”

 

Erin was all teeth then, too and pushed back slowly so they were laying parallel on the floor, cheeks touching her clean white carpets. “I really like you, Jill. I like sharing things with you. And I really liked kissing you just now.”

 

“Hm,” Holtzmann leaned in. “Would you like to try it again, just to be sure you _really_ like it?”

 

Giggling, Erin pulled her tight, bodies flush and still oh-so-warm. 

 

X

 

The next Friday found Holtzmann nervously pacing her studio-style apartment. It was barely a third the size of Erin’s — it was hardly the size of the other woman’s living room. She didn’t even have a sofa in the four hundred fifty foot space. She glanced around at her set up — a little kitchen area in the entrance which had a fold-out countertop and two stools tucked away. Opposite was the narrow excuse of a bathroom, which she had just finished wiping down. In the room proper, next to the only window, was her partially lofted bed that stood four feet off the ground with a series of drawers beneath it. At it’s footboard was her desk-slash-vanity as she had no counter, just a simple sink in the bathroom, the little mirror she had at the edge did the trick to style her hair every morning. Across from the bed (surprisingly made up with a thin quilt she’d never returned to Dr. Gorin in her college days) was a long shelf that had trinkets, books, and dozens of boxes labeled with masking tape as to their contents. It was hardly “organized,” but it was neat, in a way that made sense to Holtz. In the middle was her television, connected to an Xbox and a two terabyte hard drive with questionably legal contents. 

 

It was hardly the sophisticated, adult place that she wanted for herself, but given the little time she spent in the place and the affordable rent sticker, it would do. Still, she was a little embarrassed to have her not-quite-girlfriend over for an evening date. The buzzer from the monitored entryway made her jump and Holtz took a reassuring breath before heading to the door and entering her code before calling into the speaker, “Come on in, Erin!”

 

Fiddling wth the arm of her thick glasses, she opened the door to a rosy-cheeked Erin, who was beyond adorable in her knit black winter hat. Allowing her entrance, she watched the older woman take off her shoes and backpack, then jacket. Holtz motioned for her to store her things on the desk chair and extended her hands. “This is home,” She said quietly.

 

“It’s cozy,” Erin grinned, looking around at the posters above the bed and shelves — Ziggy Stardust, the X-Files, Star Wars, and Runaways among them. “And so very you.” She watched as the other scientist scanned further, finding their logo taped up above them on the ceiling and photos of the four ladies adhered to the refrigerator door. A picture of herself and Dr. Gorin was purposely stored in homemade frame on the desk. All in all, though she wasn’t proud of the space, as Erin stated, it was undeniably _hers_. 

 

Shrugging, Holtz pouted and stuffed her hands in her baggy pants pockets, “It’s basically just a glorified college dorm room. ‘Course I only had one of those for about a month and a half, so maybe it’s just part of my process to becoming a certified adult.”

 

Erin shot her a look before taking a long sniff of whatever was cooking. “What’s for dinner?”

 

“Oh — stir fry. Sorry, kinda boring, but —“

 

“Jill,” Erin spoke softly, the name still a little foreign, “It’s great,” She assured her. 

 

She could see the younger scientist’s shoulders drop a little as she relaxed once Erin fully let herself into the small home, taking one of the stools from it’s hiding space and easing herself at the folded out countertop. She was babbling away about the research she’d accomplished at the library that afternoon while Holtz worked on improving the hollow laser technology in their proton wands.

 

Holtz was listening and commenting as she finished fixing dinner. Her mind however, was continuing to wander as she considered the last time they kissed — before she’d left on Saturday late morning. She didn’t want to scare Erin into a full-blown make out session, but did she ever want to yank her on top of the counter and slide her tongue into the other woman’s mouth…

 

Erin was practically giddy from talking so passionately as Holtz dished out their plates upon realizing the vegetables and seasoned chicken were as good as done. Scooping heaping portions of rice and sauce on top, she slid Erin a plate with a distinctly nervous expression, hoping it was acceptable. She watched without much subtlety as Erin took an approving first bite. Feeling relief, she dived into her own meal after sliding Erin a craft beer and opening one for herself, pleased that the evening was headed in the right direction. 

 

After washing the dishes together, as was becoming their routine, Holtz observed Erin fiddling with her old inventions that lined the shelves of her walls, asking curious questions. When she came to a nearly hidden picture frame, the physicist lifted it and smiled down at little Jillian. “This is your mom?”

 

“Was,” She corrected, coming to stand closer, her lips in a half smile as she stared at the genuinely happy gaze of her mother in the photo. “She took off work and came with me on our first grade trip to the apple orchard.” Her own face was extra cheery — she distinctly remembered the smell of the field that she was perched in, her teacher offering to take a picture of the mother and daughter. Mrs. Bauman had been the only teacher in Holtz’s three years of her academic career to know her mother, as she’d started federally funded preschool (for kids _like her_ ) and kindergarten with foster families. “We went to the library together after — I got my first library card that afternoon, too. It was a really special day.”

 

Erin thumbed the sides of the frame, thankful Holtz continued so she didn’t have to pry for what happened. “She died when I was sixteen. Killed herself.”

 

She watched Erin’s grip on the frame go white and could practically smell the guilt radiating off of her. Wrapping her arms around the woman’s waist, she explained, “She was an alcoholic. Severe — the addiction counselor’s family support told me once. Social services got involved when I was too small to remember, and I spent a lot of time away from her when she’d pick up — have to be six months clean before I could go back. Constant cycle.” Holtz told the story comfortably, though her voice betrayed the acceptance she’d made with the past. Her breath was in short spurts and her words sounded jumbled, despite not being afraid to share with Erin. Perhaps it was just too damaging to really talk about. “One day she chased her sleeping pills with a liter of whiskey. The toxicology reports showed her blood alcohol level was .43 — so, even if she had survived, she probably would’ve been brain damaged.”

 

“Holtz…Jill — I…”

 

“It’s okay,” Holtzmann insisted, shaking her head. “She was a really cruddy mom. Doesn’t mean I didn’t love her — I did, but she didn’t know how to take care of me…I’m over it.”

 

Erin could hardly be convinced as she placed the picture back on the shelf. Spinning in Holtz’s hold, she doubled the effort, squeezing tightly. There weren’t words she could formulate together to come up with something sweet and sympathetic to say, but Holtz didn’t seem to mind the touch instead. Rubbing between the woman’s shoulder blades, she tilted her head and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Holtzmann responded by tucking her head against Erin’s neck, and they stayed connected in the silence for a long while.

 

The haunting tale, combined with her knowledge from Rebecca, had Erin even more determined than ever to take care of the sweet woman she was falling in love with, in any capacity she could. 

 

Finally breaking the quiet, Erin wanted to see more. “Show me your paintings?” 

 

Peeling out of her hold, Holtzmann opened the bottom drawer on her dresser, a long deep one. Lifting a stack of flat canvases, she placed the first one on the top of the bed, earning a little gasp from Erin. 

 

The physicist had seen a lot of drawings and blueprints from the woman. She knew she was profoundly talented with her hands — but this was a whole new level.

 

“Holtzmann,” She breathed, lifting the first one, shaking her head in disbelief. A long-haired woman was completely shadowed with a thick black hue, her neck tilted back a’la the Little Mermaid arising from the water. She was only visible to her torso, clearly nude from the pointed nipples, though filled in black as well. Behind her was what was really stunning — a sky of sorts in a series of blue and purple, with light orange accents splitting the back of the canvas every few inches in surprise.

 

She carefully touched the edge of the painting, noting how thickly the oil pastels had been applied. “This is beautiful!” She sighed, “Jill, why don’t you have this on display somewhere?”

 

Holtz shrugged and hoisted herself up to her mattress with just her upper body strength. “It was mostly done to comply with ‘Becca’s wishes for my creative outlet. We had it out once shortly after I moved in with her, and it was really, really awful. I never wanted her to feel that frustrated with me again, so I made sure to do my best and stick with her simple requests. That included, for awhile, Sundays out of the lab if it wasn’t related to course content. It was hard to follow that rule for a time, that’s when I did most of these.”

 

She pulled the painting away to reveal another one underneath it, full of glittering, swirling stars of pink and purple and plenty of white blank space and Erin had shivers at the sight. The next was of Rebecca herself, nursing a mug of tea, hair down and glasses off. “Oh my gosh,” Erin sighed, feeling sentimental. For a moment, she wished she had a child of her own just so that Holtz could capture them in an immortalized frame of paint that could live on beyond them.

 

A fourth painting was of two cats, curled around one another in sunlight. Holtz explained they belonged to her mentor, though Mr. Beatty had recently passed away. 

 

Next was a self-portrait and it made Erin want to hunt through Holtz’s boxes until she could find actual photos of Holtzmann from college. In the portrait, Holtz’s hair was short, flared out to the sides a little like a seventies stoner rocker. Her expression was serious and beauty mark near her right eye accented. Aside from the aesthetic difference, Holtz’s face had the typical early twenties roundness that most girls held. Her eyes though — betrayed her facial beauty, radiating a certain depth of incompleteness that the young woman seemed to bury.

 

Four paintings depicted nature scenes presumably of Cambridge wildlife, another was a Warhol inspired piece with four different colored Pringles cans, earning Erin’s laughter.

 

The last one was most inspired though and Erin was already formulating how to ask Holtzmann to make something so stunning that could somehow be replicated and added to her tattoo collection. 

 

It was abstract art — the most bizarre piece in the collection for sure. Triangles, spheres, prisms of every size were done in thick black, while the middle of it all had what appeared to be arabic writing on the elbow of Holtzmann, which covered her face. The rest was nearly fifty shades of blue, the text in the middle a firm red-orange glow.

 

“It means, _she rises_ ,” Holtzmann explained, tracing the arabic symbol. “I did this right after my didn’t-get-into-CERN-meltdown. Again, ’Becca made me do it. Said it would be more productive to create something than blow something up…again…”

 

Erin felt an unexplainable tightness in her throat. So many stars had to align to make this moment between the two of them come together, and Holtzmann’s non-acceptance letter the world’s most prestigious engineering program along with it. Glancing into a heavy blue gaze, she wanted nothing more than to start their Friday night cuddle session to try and iterate that fact. It wasn't that she thought Holtzmann was incapable of working with the most gifted scientists on the planet; it was that she wanted her where she was. Not sure how to express that, Erin shifted her weight awkwardly from foot to foot, her fingers rapping against her palm.

 

Sensing her desire to climb up, Holtz hopped down, tossed the paintings back into the drawer, then hoisted Erin up by the waist, making her giggle while she dug around her shelves, retrieving several spiral-bound books. 

 

Wiggling her way up onto the bed, Holtz moved to drape her legs over Erin’s, flipping open the first of three sketch books, revealing a dozen perfectly drawn replicas of Dr. Gorin’s hands in different positions. “The year between not getting into CERN and meeting Abby was my worst. I was really, really down. I hardly spent any time in the lab. Thankfully, Rebecca wouldn’t let me spend any time curled up in my room either, so I filled these up while I desperately applied for jobs.”

 

Erin flipped through pictures of anything and everything that Holtzmann came across in her twenty-eighth year. Some were shaded, a few colored in — a few watercolor paintings even popped up. Tools, cats, people, glasses, goggles, rumpled piles of clothes, food, and finally —

 

“Abby,” Erin grinned so widely it almost hurt her cheeks. The image of her best friend was so spot-on, it made her almost giddy. She was smiling a tight-lipped smirk, looking like she was holding in a big laugh, beaming. 

 

“She really changed me,” Holtz sighed, staring at her charcoal drawing. “It wasn’t easy being away from Dr. Gorin at first, but she really helped me figure out how to fend for myself in the big city. I’m not saying I’ve been very good at it, but I’m still here, and Abby’s mostly due the credit for it.”

 

“She’s the best,” Erin stated firmly. She hooked an arm around Holtz and pecked her temple. “I’m glad you found each other. And I’m glad I found my way to you. Even if it is all your fault.”

 

Holtz let out a sound that was nearly a meow as she curled into her date after setting the sketchbooks aside. “Did I ever apologize for posting that video?”

 

“Not in words,” Erin said, not bitter about it.

 

She cheesed a bright grin and stated honestly, in a singular tone, “Well, good — because I’m sorry about the way it happened, but I’m not sorry that it brought us here.”

 

“I’m grateful that it brought us here,” She said quietly.

 

Holtzmann’s expression was one of awe and the shy desire that radiated though everything she did in wanting to be with her.

 

This was it, for Erin. No man had ever just held her or wanted to be held by her in such a way, and sure, there’d been hook-ups with girls. There’d been an almost _thing_ with Abby. But this, with Holtzmann was intimacy that she wanted, what she’d been craving since she knew what yearning was. Since she was eight years old and alone and just wanted to feel safe, protected.

 

After a long minute, Holtz adjusted herself so she was perched in Erin’s lap. She drew her face close and blinked her long lashes along Erin’s cheek, making her sensitive skin tickle at the butterfly kiss sensation. 

 

“Will you kiss me some more?” She asked without hesitation, but a soft voice that suggested her slightest nerve still existing.

 

Holtzmann didn’t verify with words that there was no reason to be nervous to ask for such a gesture. Pressing their lips together, Holtz put a hand in Erin’s hair, the other firm on her shoulder as she made it sweet and slow. 

 

Erin felt herself humming into the kiss, sighing when Holtz pulled away. Knowing she was falling deep into puppy love, she took her turn to initiate one, her hands settling on Holtz’s high-waisted pants, thumb dancing over the wide belt buckle. Realizing then that her not-quite-girlfriend was still dressed from the day and she’d showed up in her cozy clothes, she leaned back to suggest, “Get comfy? Then we can spend the night here…cuddling and doing that?”

 

“Mhm,” Holtz responded in earnest, though realizing it was already past ten o’clock after their late dinner and walk through her art. “Can we put something on to fall asleep to?”

 

Erin gave a single nod and watched as tugged shorts and a tank top from the top drawer, stepping into the bathroom to change. Flipping through channels, she settled on a marathon of reruns to a sitcom, shifting in Holtz’s bed so she could be under the blankets. 

 

The engineer came out, all muscles and pale skin with the skimpy pajamas she sported. Erin turned the color of strawberry ice cream from head to toe at the sight, but to her credit, Holtz played like she hadn’t noticed. She shuffled across her tile floor to stand at the bedside, which came to her chest level. With her arms spread out she reached for Erin’s face, kissing her lips sweetly before letting out a grunt and pushing herself up. Her hair was all up in her nighttime bun and Erin just wanted it down.

 

Boldly, she reached over to the blonde locks and undid the twist, forcing it to tumble down to Holtz’s shoulders. Scooting so she was completely pressed up to the wall, she tugged Holtz back and started to massage her scalp, playing with her hair gingerly while they zoned in and out of the tv. 

 

“Ohmygod, Erin,” Holtz managed to utter after a half hour of the petting. “I…wow.”

 

Grinning, Erin kissed the top of her head and detangled the curly portions. It continued on until Holtz could take no more and turned herself, needing to kiss the other woman boldly on the lips. 

 

Erin accepted the move and returned it with her own, still not wanting to push too far in these their early weeks of dating. Sleeping together was definitely as far as they needed to go; she didn’t want to wind up actually _sleeping_ with Holtz before they’d gone out on a formal date or told their friends about their blossoming relationship.

 

Apparently, though, the younger woman didn’t want to wait much longer. She pushed off the physicist and spooned behind her, holding her close on the hoard of slightly-too-thin pillows. “Can I take you out somewhere nice next Friday?”

 

Erin grinned to herself since Holtz couldn’t see. Flipping to ensure she could read the cue of just how thrilled the notion made her she responded, “So long as I can take you out the Friday after.”

 

“This is so weird,” Holtz slightly altered the subject. “Before 2016 ended, I spent so much time in the lab, I was starting to think that I aught to just store all my shit upstairs and sleep in the old barracks up there. But since I’ve started this with you? I’ve been asleep by midnight every night and these Fridays make me glad you or I have a place to go home to.”

 

“Aww,” Erin squeezed under her breasts where her arm was hooked, taking in the happy moan as she did so. Noting how comfortably Holtz had admitted the fact — not stuttering or short of breath as she confessed something so honest, she felt the need to do the same. “I like being the reason you want a place called home.”

 

X

 

Rebecca wasn’t one for slamming doors or stomping feet. Passive aggression, she’d found, was simply ineffective, when actual aggression could serve it’s purpose much faster.

 

Still — months of the troublemaker she’d taken in were wearing on her. Her hair was turning more gray by the second and she could feel the stress of wrangling one small, blonde queer engineer taking years off her life. 

 

So she _did_ slam the door to her apartment closed, though she wasn’t even sure if the little pistol was inside. Sure enough, though, Jillian was sprawled out on the sofa. The TV was blaring a courtroom drama. Her supposed “student” was sporting just her underwear and a baggy t-shirt, snacking campus convenience store chips while sipping straight from a two liter of soda. 

 

Having had quite enough of her attitude, the professor marched over and turned off the tube, earning a, “Hey!” Rebecca took the soda and walked with authority into the kitchen, draining the remainder of the bottle down the sink. “What the hell!?”

 

Jillian was on her feet, a scowl on her baby-faced features. Her greasy hair was tied up at the nape of her neck and her scrawny legs looked like bean poles. “What is going on?”

 

“You tell me, Jillian,” The older scientist barked, her lips drawn into a tight line. Crossing her arms over one another, she came to stand uncomfortably close to Jillian, who took two nervous steps back after flinching at the proximity. “You belong in an organic chemistry lab right now. And you were to be in a biology course two hours ago. Yet, here you are — drained of dignity before me.”

 

The blonde sputtered and blinked hard and fast, wishing she had her glasses on to act as a barrier between her gaze and the intensity of Dr. Gorin’s. “I don’t friggin’ — the hell, need — dignity!”

 

“You are a human being, and you are to _live_ with it. Dignity, _respect_ , is something you have to have for _yourself_ just as you would expect others to hold it to you. One doesn’t sit around like a slob then expect to be given a 4.0 for the semester when they can’t manage to drag themselves across campus for a simple class!”

 

“Whatever,” Jillian rolled her eyes and made a move to bypass Rebecca to the refrigerator, but the woman steered her to the kitchen table instead, sitting her in one of the straight-backed wooden chairs. The glare on her face was making Jillian itch in her brain.

 

Tugging on her earlobe, she blinked her eyes shut as she waited a tirade of insults. She and Dr. Gorin had it out multiple times since moving in — over her messiness, tardiness, lack of caring about anything-ness…This was just another lecture to add to the growing list of people whom Jillian Holtzmann had disappointed in her eighteen years on the planet.

 

“Jillian,” The woman’s voice was soft and she was crouched in front of her. “I’m continuing to find myself extremely frustrated with this flippant behavior. What is your goal? Why did you come to this school if you aren’t going to follow the steps you need to be successful?”

 

There was that word again — Dr. Gorin seemed to care an _awful_ lot about success.

 

Refusing to offer a response, she noted the slight pitch alteration in the woman’s voice as she continued. “I want to help you. I want to make sure you are doing the things you need to in order to get where you need to go. But you are vehemently betraying every ounce of assistance and patience you receive.” 

 

Still, she was silent. Rebecca tried one more approach, though her tone didn’t match the words as she was sharp and feeling four months of annoyance for the lack of graciousness from her student. “I understand — you think you’re eighteen. You’ve had to care for yourself for most of your life, so what does age change that? But Jillian, you’re _not_ — caring for yourself. You’re existing at best. You need to admit that you need some help, and graciously take advantage of the help others are trying to offer to you.”

 

“I don’t want help!” Jillian shouted suddenly, squinting and then slapping herself on the head. Her teeth gritted together, she exclaimed her exuberance that had settled in the last four months. “I don’t need a mother! Mine was a shitty one and then she died. I always took care of myself. I can keep taking care of myself! Stop trying to mother me!”

 

“I’m not trying to be your mother!” Rebecca suddenly yelled back. “I can’t imagine a more impossible task! Jillian, you are brilliant! We need minds like yours in this field! But if you don’t take care of your body or follow through the basic expectations of your current placement, we can’t use you because you’ll be washed up before you even start.”

 

Jillian realized something in that moment. Her defensive features disappeared and she was silent. Any flicker of recognition she’d had at the conversation disappeared from her blue orbs, which Rebecca was staring into with complex anger that was morphing into sincere concern. 

 

_We can’t use you._

 

The longer the quiet stretched on, the more the professor could only hope that Jillian would say something.

 

“Jillian,” She spoke her name, keeping her voice light. “I’m sorry. I care about you deeply, and I hate to see you throwing your potential away. Let’s — what can I do to…” She paused, pulling her thoughts together as Jillian appeared to be shrinking inwards. Her body curled in, hands tucked into her pits, knees drawing up to her chest. Still — the passivity that lingered in her eyes, Rebecca could not ignore. “You’re not unmanageable, Jillian, I’m sorry. I’m frustrated and feeling lost as how to help you. Jillian?”

 

Slowly unfolding, the blonde finally stood up. Pushing in her chair, she excused herself and made way up the stairs. Rebecca reminded herself to take in deep breaths, feeling as though she was already blacking out the conversation. At least she hadn’t stormed outside — she was still at home, Rebecca could keep an eye on the lost little girl that had become the only thing in the world she was finding herself caring about. 

 

Playing the argument over in her mind, the professor groaned to herself. She had been trying to hold back the more brutal part of her thoughts towards Jillian, but she was fairly sure they came out.

 

_We can’t use you._

 

Yeah — that sounded bad. She hadn’t meant it in the taking-advantage-of sense, but really, how else was one to take such a phrase? Snapping the cuff of her shirt, she shook her head. She couldn’t take the words back. She’d have to live with them. So would Jillian.

 

Wanting to rush up the steps and try (knowing failure was inevitable) to reconnect with her charge, Rebecca forced herself to sit on the sofa with her work for the afternoon instead. 

 

Evening rolled on and after picking up the mess in the living room, Rebecca did her best to keep herself distracted and out of Jillian’s hair. She busied herself with prepping meals, at one point hearing the pipes drawing water to the tub (which she was very thankful for — Jillian’s record of washing her hair was bordering on repulsive). 

 

Two hours later, she decided that the young woman had enough time to herself. Hoping to bring her a peace offering with a grape jelly toast and scrambled eggs, she sighed and forced herself up the steps. Blinking with confusion when Jillian’s door was open and she wasn’t in the room, Rebecca placed the tray on the dresser before poking her head into the home office, which was also empty.

 

Frowning, she knocked once on the closed bathroom door, panicking as her brain waves connected and she realized Jillian had gone in for a bath nearly two hours previous. Bursting it open with the thrust of her hip, she breathed out in relief to see her pupil conscious — though upon closer look, it appeared to be mostly physical. Unsure if Jillian was actually dissociating or not, she cautiously drew closer to the nude girl, noting the blue tinge to her lips from sitting in the now icy bathwater for so long.

 

“Jillian,” Rebecca spoke, her voice nearly cracking in unheard of empathy from herself. The blonde didn’t look up. Reassuring herself with a deep breath, she called her name twice more before taking action. Wondering just how many ethical standards she may be breaching, Rebecca supposed having a student incapacitated and hospitalized under her care might be worse. Unplugging the water, she waited for it to drain some before taking the stack of towels off the rack. Tugging one around Jillian’s shoulders, she used the other to shake through her short, wet locks. With a nervous energy she rarely embodied, Rebecca did her best to dry the blonde’s torso before forcing her up, making her move by applying pressure under her arm.

 

When she arrived in her bedroom, there seemed to be a beat of understanding that passed between Jillian and reality. With help from the professor, she managed to tug on a set of clean pajamas before collapsing forward into Rebecca’s hold when she was before her.

 

A loud cry escaped Jillian’s lips and with a thick swallow, the fifty-two year old woman hoisted her thin student up, half-carrying her to her own bedroom. Tucking her into bed, she hastily swapped out her teaching suit for red pajamas and laid down beside her, pulling the hysterical girl close. 

 

She didn’t pay attention to the time that passed, merely kept herself propped up on the stack of pillows, Jillian at her side, soaking her top with tears. Out of nowhere, the young engineer quieted and mumbled, “I’ll talk to housing in the morning.”

 

“For what?” Rebecca expressed, her brows drawn downward.

 

Jillian prepared to wipe at her face with her sleeve but Rebecca caught her and passed a tissue instead. “You shouldn’t have to deal with me.”

 

Dr. Gorin could have shook the student. With a calming breath out her nose to keep from lashing out as she did earlier, she explained, “I don’t want to deal with you.”

 

“I know,” Jillian said through a bubble of emotion. “That’s why I’ll go—“

 

“Listen.” Rebecca extended her hand and stroked her favorite genius’s shoulders. “Truly _listen_. I don’t want to _deal with you_ because that’s not how people who love and care for one another interact. That’s not how problems are solved. That’s not how people make change.”

 

Jillian squinted through puffy, bloodshot eyes, truly not understanding. 

 

“Jillian, I think you’ve been _dealt with_ most of your life. Your teachers and school officials dealt with you because you were too smart for them. Your mother, bless her, dealt with your desires for attention because she didn’t know how to properly care for a child. Your foster families dealt with you because you weren’t like their other children. Your social workers dealt with you because that was their job. I’m _choosing_ you. I don’t have to do this. And while I think you’re brilliant and aught to tap into your fullest academic and career potential, you’re more than that.”

 

The younger woman looked strung out as she tried to process what she was being told. “I care about you, Jillian, as this young woman who hasn’t had much care in her life. Please, stay. You deserve to be here. You deserve to be loved. You deserve to be yourself. But you have to take care of yourself to make that happen.”

 

Shifting from her stiffly seated position, Jillian relaxed and scooted herself until she was side-straddling the older woman, bringing her head to rest on her sternum. Rubbing her thumb along her own collar bone, Jillian let out a long, contented sigh when Dr. Gorin hooked her arms around her waist and back, keeping her close. 

 

“My mom used to hold me like this,” Jillian said softly after a minute of the firm embrace. “I know she didn’t know how to take care of me, or herself, but she did love me, Dr. Gorin.”

 

“I believe you, I do,” Rebecca assured her. “I hope that in time, I can help you see that you aught to love yourself as much as she loved you.”

 

X

 

Erin looked absolutely radiant as they were seated in a lounge with a wink from someone Holtz apparently knew from one of the LGBTQIA+ community events she’d been to over the years. They were at a dinner theater and she’d never attended one before, but Erin was completely excited to try something new. The cozy bench they’d been seated in was the perfect size to slide under the arm of Holtz’s crisp, navy blazer. She’d unintentionally matched the light blue ascot that Holtz had tied under her periwinkle pinstriped collared shirt. Her fresh-from-the-online-repair-shop pair of round, silver, yellow-tinted glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose and with Erin’s hair half up and a pair of teardrop earrings on, they looked like a dazzling, put-together couple.

 

The first act was a musical duo of a piano player and vocalist, singing a ‘40s style cabaret song. Erin and Holtz enjoyed the show, sharing an appetizer sampler and teasing one another with what sort of a double act they could put on in such a venue. 

 

Their dinner arrived by the time the actual show started — a themed, campy production of a female crime stopping duo which had both ladies in stitches. When it was through, they were on their feet clapping, a little tipsy, and full; mostly of warm fuzzy feelings as their dinner was largely untouched in their ability to focus on the food. 

 

The night wore on with a nightcap and desert, compliments of Holtz’s friends and by the time they’d stuffed themselves with the lusciously creamy chocolate cake, Erin was half asleep.

 

Holtz held her jacket out for her after retrieving it from coat check and Erin slipped her arms in before linking theirs together. She leaned against the shorter woman, even shorter given Erin’s two inch heels. “Thank you for planning that,” She said with her cheeks pink from the alcohol. “That was easily the best date I’ve ever been on.”

 

“Really?” Holtz questioned, eyes sparkling in shining potential for the future.

 

Nodding, Erin paused their walk and tilted her head, pressing a sweet kiss to Holtz’s temple before threading their fingers together and tugging them towards her apartment — a little longer of a walk than she’d typically have taken alone, but with Holtzmann, it didn’t seem so bad. “Without a doubt. But I’m ready to curl up with you and let you sing me to sleep.”

 

“Sing you to sleep, huh?” Holtz found a smirk. “I could very easily be persuaded to do that. What sort of lullaby would you like me to enchant you with?”

 

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” Erin fought off a yawn and squeezed her friend’s hand as they braved the cold and continued to walk towards her place. Upon arriving, she kicked off her dreadful heels and shrugged out of her jacket as Holtz bounced to the bedroom, her sleeping clothes already laid out on the bed. She dressed quickly, not fighting Erin when the older woman insisted on hanging up her nice dress clothes, mixing them with her own in the closet. She found a longing sense of home upon watching Erin place them in by type so her dress shirt fit seamlessly with Erin’s collection. Already too warm for bed, Holtz rolled onto her side, squeezing her legs together as Erin had stepped into the bathroom to change. So far in their sleepover adventures, she’d been able to treat them as such. With the ever-growing closeness though, the typical desires of over a month of low-key dating seeping in. Pressing her lips together, Holtz whined a little before physically shaking her head of thoughts of doing anything other than sleeping with Erin that night.

 

Her almost-girlfriend sneaked out in a different sort of ensemble then Holtz had seen from her, making her smile, despite the buzzing between her thighs. The woman was in a pair of matching top and bottom PJ’s, with little snowflakes on the cuff of the ankle and wrist of the long sleeved garment. “You’re so dang cute,” Holtz sighed as Erin plugged in her nightlight and turned off the main ones, letting the room glow it’s LED blueish haze. “I’m so glad you had a good time tonight. It’s nerve-wracking, getting the first real date right.”

 

Erin sat down on Holtz’s side of the bed first, putting her hand in the juncture of Holtz’s hip on a little sliver of skin between her tank top and shorts. “It was perfect. Really. Now I’ve gotta try and top it next week, huh?”

 

“Nah,” Holtz kissed her forehead. “Just find someplace you wanna go. Trust me, a night out with you is treat in itself.” She hummed and stroked Erin’s hair away from her face after the older scientist climbed over her and slipped under a blanket. 

 

She drew her close, locking her forearm over where Erin’s bellybutton would be, kissing her temple and making her give a low squeak of a sound. “Where’s my lullaby?” She wondered out loud, her voice growing groggier by the syllable. 

 

Holtz snickered and buzzed a little noise in her throat, prepared to let her know. Erin chuckled sleepily as she recognized the song right away as Holtz dramatically, yet softly managed to sing a staple seventies power ballad. When she sang the refrain, Erin closed her eyes and nuzzled her face closer while Holtz kept petting her hair, stroking her bangs repeatedly. “I want to know what love is, I want you to show me. I want to feel what love is, I know you can show me…”

 

Just before she could drift off, Erin realized she hadn’t properly ended the date. Interrupting Holtzmann’s singing, she kissed her tenderly on the lips, earning the sweet maneuver back. 

 

X

 

Jillian sat in the dean’s office with her hypothetical tail tucked between her legs. Her lower lip kept quivering, but she refused to cry in the setting. Rebecca was waiting in the chairs beyond the closed doors, while her undergraduate faculty advisor and two of her professors were off to the side, listening to the dean’s verdict. 

 

“Ms. Holtzmann, you won our scholarship out of your academic merit, skill set, impressive inventions, and need for financial assistance to be successful in school. There were over three thousand applicants. _Why_ would you do anything to jeopardize this?”

 

She took a shaky breath and tugged at her earlobe, then fidgeted with the big silver rimmed glasses on her face. “I don’t know, sir.”

 

“I’m not sure if you realize this,” He leaned forward, his wrinkled brow perched, lips in a tight seal when he wasn’t speaking. Jillian flickered her eye line up and shivered at the sight. “You are the smartest person on this campus. If we measure intelligence by raw data scores, you blow everyone here off the charts.” Grunting, the elderly man continued. “But if we’re measuring by throwing potential away, you’re the stupidest student I’ve ever had in this office!”

 

She had nothing to say in response.

 

“Honestly, this behavior? It’s foolishness. There’s no excuse for acting this way. You’re not better than your peers because you’re more intelligent. In fact, by refusing to comply with the simple standards set for you, they become superior.”

 

Still, silence was all she had to offer.

 

“Ms. Holtzmann, you can’t just sit here and quietly hope I’m going to let you get away with this set of rule-breaking nonsense because you’re intellectually gifted!”

 

Unable to stop the single tear that rolled down her cheek, Jillian nodded once and stood, opening the door with haste. Immediately, she revealed a stern, yet concerned Rebecca. Looking tight-lipped, she glanced at the crystal droplets now flowing freely down her favorite student’s cheeks. Knowing she was going into this meeting bull-headed, she could only assume that she was being bullied into an explanation for her behavior, one which she couldn’t possibly produce. With a sigh, she brought her hands up to cup Jillian’s pale face, stroking the tears away with her thumbs.

 

“Jillian we’re not finished!” The dean said with a clear tiredness to his voice. Rebecca clamped a hand on her shoulder and steered her back in, coming to stand dutifully behind her. “Dr. Gorin —“

 

“Peter,” She said casually, “I’m not sure if you noticed over the last ten minutes, but insults and shaming are not the best way to handle Jillian.”

 

He practically growled. Unable to take the man’s badgering any longer either, Dr. Horne stood from her quiet post to the side and crossed the luxurious carpet flooring to be present at the dean’s side. She was the biology professor that Jillian had let down so brilliantly that semester. “Jillian, I know you can do the work. You can probably do it better than I can, then teach it to the rest of the class in your own way. I’d really like to make your midterm grade an _incomplete_ on the condition that you will have all of the work done, to the best of your ability, by Memorial Day. And I know that your other professors are willing to do the same.”

 

She wiped at her face again, completely embarrassed. Dr. Gorin smiled her thanks softly at her colleague then squared herself to stand in front of Jillian. “We’re going to stick to the schedule, and you’re going to be able to get it all done. I _know_ you’re capable.”

 

Stoically, Jillian nodded with a big breath.

 

The dean let out a sound that was nearly a laugh. “I don’t think you realize just how special you must be to Dr. Gorin, Ms. Holtzmann. She’s usually in here raising cain to have students kicked out of this institution or from her program, not sticking her thirty-five year academic career on the line to save them.”

 

She blushed and stared at her feet again, one last tear rolling out of her.

 

“I’ll have my secretary prepare the paperwork — Dr. Gorin, I’ll send it your way. Ensure that she signs and reviews it carefully. This is the only chance you’ll be getting from me, understand, Ms. Holtzmann?”

 

Nodding, she dared to look up, finding a beam she couldn’t quite read in Dr. Gorin’s eyes. Taking her offered hand, she was pulled to her feet, mumbling thanks. As they walked out of the office, she was tucked into Rebecca’s side in some sort of hug before let go of. The professor was pretty clear about on-campus displays of affection. “Come now, let’s get some supper in you and start on that biology coursework.”

 

After hanging their jackets in the hallway closet, Rebecca directed Jillian straight to the kitchen.

The older woman hummed and set the younger to work peeling carrots while she focused on steaming broccoli and putting a pot on to boil water for pasta. She spewed instructions, determined to teach her protege some basic cooking skills before her time with the young Holtzmann would be up. 

 

The simple meal only took twenty-odd minutes to prepare and they were serving themselves at the made up table. Jillian speared noodles and coated them in sauce, but they never made it to her mouth. After a few minutes of quiet, she covered her face and wept softly into her hands. Eventually working up words, she questioned, “Why are you doing this, Dr. Gorin?”

 

“A balanced diet is an important part of caring for yourself, Jillian. You know this.”

 

“No!” She cried, wiping her face. “I feel like — I appreciate everything you’re doing, I do,” She said softly, “But I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

 

Rebecca munched a carrot and shrugged. “Do you want my life story? I was born on a simple farm in the Iowa country in 1949 —“

 

“No!” Jillian all but stamped her foot in frustration. “The dean said — you don’t stick your neck out for anyone. Why, for me? Some dumb kid who’s lazy, hopeless, hyper, and has bad manners! You said you don’t want to mother me, but why else could you want to put your career on the line?”

 

“You’re correct, I don’t want to mother you. I never had the chance to be a mother.” She could have gone misty on the subject, but nearly twenty years had passed since the incident, and she refused to let it consume her in misery. “When I was thirty-two, I was pregnant. I was devastated. I didn’t want a baby. I thought it would ruin my career. But, my husband found out before I could do anything about it and the more time passed, the more I found myself maybe looking forward to raising a child.”

 

Jillian was silent and all ears as she stared with almost a glazed-over expression at the possibly emotional look into her mentor’s personal life. “About a week before I was set to deliver, I went for a checkup. I’d felt weird, for a few days — different. When I got to the office, they couldn’t detect a heartbeat. I delivered a stillborn fetus a few hours later.”

 

With no idea what to say in regard to the situation, Jillian stayed focused and quiet. Dr. Gorin cleared her throat, shrugging. “I packed up the nursery and started taking birth control. I couldn’t go through nine months of that again.

 

“I never wanted to be a mother; but then I accepted that I would be — and yet, I wasn’t. My dear, I don’t cope well with disappointments.”

 

Jillian was intrigued, feeling second-hand guilt, and sorrow at the same time. Continuing to done her entire attention span to the woman who’d opened up her life for her, she listened to the close of the doctor’s point.

 

“It was an extremely close call this past spring — selecting the candidate for our full ride scholarship. There were ten very bright, talented students in the mix. Nine of them had a full roster of extra curricular activities, countless awards, honors, achievements, supportive families and a hundred letters of recommendation between them. And then,” Dr. Gorin offered a side smirk. “There was you. You’d applied for school here as a way to say you’d made an attempt at thinking about your future. But — thankfully, your social worker knew you better than to let you try and worm out of an opportunity like studying here. I read through the file that had been sent to us, detailing your test scores and all you’d been through in your short seventeen years. And I knew, though you were our least likely choice, you could be the _only_ choice.”

 

Leaning forward a little, Jillian nodded while the professor finished. “And, you’ve disappointed me. And as I just said — I don’t cope well with disappointments. So, I’ve done what I can to get you back on track so that hopefully, you won’t disappoint me again.”

 

“I won’t!” She shouted, leaping off her chair and nearly knocking Rebecca’s back with the sudden weight of her body against the scientist’s. Her hands locked around the woman’s neck and face tucked under her chin. Wet cheeks dampened a crisp, peach blouse, but Rebecca didn’t shove her off or scold her. Rather, she embraced her with double the ferocity. With as much conviction as she could, Jillian assured her, “I don’t want to disappoint you ever again. I want to make you happy, Dr. Gorin. I want to make you proud.”

 

Feeling the glaze only capable of being produced by the most intense of emotions from the doctor, Rebecca gave the small body in her lap a snug squeeze and held her close. “I know you will, Jillian. I know you will.”

 

X

 

Erin smirked as she took in Holtzmann’s date night attire. It baffled her how the woman who could hardly stand to sleep in the world’s shortest shorts and thinnest tank tops could wear so many layers during the day. A pair of (bear-like) green corduroy overalls were underneath a grey knee-length sweater, tied together with a belt that had a homemade buckle with their logo on it. The sleeves were rolled to her elbows, with the buttons from the open wrist of the button up, striped top she wore beneath the overalls jutting out over the top of the sweater. 

 

Still — who was Erin to judge fashion sense? She looked down at her own ensemble; a pink cardigan over jeans wasn’t much to write home about. Gently grabbing her date’s arm, she led them into the venue she’d selected — a very casual art gallery, featuring an upcoming Brooklyn artist who had space-themed oil paintings on display. 

 

Holtz spent vast amounts of time taking in each one, expressing an attention span that Erin didn’t know she possessed outside of cuddling. When they were about halfway through the exhibit, she said, “I wish we had that poetry book of yours. Imagine reading some of those poems while looking at these? Wow. What a frickin’ artistic experience. We should get a hold of the publisher and tell the artist to collaborate with the poet. Beautiful.”

 

Nodding at the raw potency that could deliver, Erin tucked an arm over Holtzmann’s back, hugging her as they moved to the upstairs, where a different artist was featured, with extremely abstract three-dimensional work. They didn’t spend quite as long ingesting the displays, but Holtzmann was inspired all the same.

 

“That was neat, Erin,” Holtzmann complimented her idea as they left the gallery and headed to the uptown bar that Erin had been hoping to visit after passing it on her way home from work for years. “I feel like the hip New Yorker I’ve always wanted to be but never convinced myself to go out and explore. Can we do stuff like this more often?”

 

“So long as you want to keep going on dates with me, absolutely.”

 

Holtz wound their fingers together, “I certainly don't think I need much convincing of that.”

 

Walking in the brisk February weather, Erin led them to the destination, pleased to find two seats easily at the bar. She wasn’t one for actually sitting at the countertop, but Holtzmann had her wanting to change even silly nuances in her life.

 

Ordering them each a shot and a fancy mixed drink, Erin leaned into her partner as they watched the bartender. Toasting “To space art and snuggles,” as Holtzmann eloquently put it, they downed the small glasses of liquor, then took it easy with their other beverages. 

 

One of the aspects about their budding relationship that Erin truly appreciated the most was the ease of which they flowed into conversations. Struggling with words had been a daily anxiety before the Ghostbusters — and even though she could still spill some righteously embarrassing tea every now and again, Erin had never felt more comfortable talking for long stretches then with Holtzmann. Her not-quite-girlfriend was certainly (surprisingly) quieter than her, but spoke volumes with few words while Erin could ramble and not feel like she was falling flat on her face around the younger woman. 

 

Three drinks in and they were entirely giggly — well, Erin was giggly, Holtz was mostly just doey eyes and bright smiles that lit up the entire bar. When she saw the bartender mixing up something for someone else, however, she let out a small gasp and insisted on one for the two of them.

 

That’s how the two genius level scientists wound up playing a game of kerplunk with a fistful of straws, a small fishbowl container full of blue liquid, and two dozen Swedish Fish floating at the bottom of their extremely potent mixed drink.

 

Laughing like complete hooligans and earning amused attention from other patrons, the two had no idea that the bar tender had decided to capture the moment on his phone and post it to the social media page. 

 

Finally managing (with slightly sticky fingers) to free the fish-shaped fruit snacks from the bowl and down the bubbly blue booze, the Ghostbusters made their way back to Erin’s apartment, stumbling halfway there and tumbling into bed with a long, deep kiss. 

 

Erin finally pulled away before she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from sliding her hands where they didn’t yet belong. Biting her puffy lip, she shyly expressed, “Holtz — Jill, you’re making me so happy.”

 

Holtz kissed her again then wrestled off her own belt and sweater, followed by her overalls, leaving her in a bright yellow boy shorts with a winking smiley face and her top, halfway unbuttoned. Flushing bright enough to see with just the hallway light, Erin took a moment to slide away from the bed and focus on being ready to properly climb in. Changing into a t-shirt and pair of sleep pants, though the struggle was real in the dim light of her twinkling strand beneath the dresser and her drunken state, she locked up the apartment. Finally, she brought Holtzmann a glass of water, setting it on the nightstand with a coaster.

 

The blonde was staring at her with complete fondness, a sleepy, non-sober smirk earning her presence close once again. Climbing back into bed, she set to work taking the shorter woman’s hair out of it’s bobby pins, making her purr and sigh at the release of tension. 

 

Drunk on happiness possibly more than the alcohol, Erin laid back and pulled her all-but-girlfriend close, kissing the back of her head as she spooned her goodnight. 

 

In the morning, Erin woke up with little feeling but pins and needles in her arm. Ordinarily, she’d have been annoyed and desperately shaking it to try and revive her circulation, but the cause was that Holtzmann had actually stayed curled up at her side all night, instead of spread out on the far side of the bed, pants-less and uncovered. Though, she was pants-less, she was covered by one of Erin’s thermal-textured blankets and snuggled completely against her favorite physicist. 

 

Fairly sure there was a sugar factory growing on her gums, Erin kissed the mop of blonde curls before sneaking off the mattress and into the bathroom, scrubbing the toothbrush bristles against her teeth. Rinsing with mouthwash, she stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame and crossing her arms as she watched Holtz roll over a few times before realizing her source of body heat was gone, sitting up, and pouting pitifully before spotting Erin. She looked like absolute mush at the sight, blinking sleepily and stretching in her direction.

 

“Good morning,” Erin stated, pushing herself off the wood and shuffling bare feet across the carpeted surface of her bedroom. 

 

Holtz moved to the edge of the bed, offering a groggy return of the greeting. “You’re so pretty in the morning, Erin,” She said with a dreamy voice.

 

“Does that I’m not pretty during the rest of the day?”

 

“Noooo,” Her engineer whined, then flopped to the floor indignity before crawling like a feral child, pants free and all, to the bathroom to brush her teeth as well as Erin snorted her laughter before tugging the blankets up and making the bed quickly. 

 

She found warm arms loose around her waist a few minutes later as she contemplated what to prepare for breakfast, followed by lips at her nape. “I love waking up with you,” Erin spoke, turning around to hug her woman fervently, pleased to find her wearing pants. 

 

“Same,” Holtz responded. “You make me feel so wanted.”

 

“More than that,” Erin assured her, pressing her kiss to her temple. “I want to take care of you.”

 

“Hmm,” The younger one didn’t have much to say to that. 

 

“Breakfast?” 

 

“Erin, you don’t have to,” Holtz stated, making Erin’s brow furrow. She’d been preparing Saturday morning meals for them for the better part of six weeks. 

 

“I want to,” She insisted, adding an extra kiss before pulling away to get started. “Pancakes?”

 

She almost felt the temperature in the room drop when Holtzmann took a few steps back to sit herself at the small kitchen island they usually ate the meal at. “Jill?” She blinked, tilting her head in sudden confusion as something seemed to click in the other woman’s mind. “What’s wrong? If you’re not hungry —“

 

“Erin,” She started with a serious tone, pressing her lips together then shaking her head and scratching at it. Feeling defenseless without the yellow eyes that were on the nightstand to block the intense, concerned gaze of the physicist, Holtz intentionally kept her own locked on the speckled granite. 

 

“Alright,” Erin blinked rapidly, trying to sort out the last sixty seconds of silence and backtrack. Had her offer for breakfast, what was normal for over a month, been uncalled for? “Holtz? You’re going to have to lead with something here, I’m pretty confused.”

 

Meandering to the stool beside her, Erin spun herself into it and turned it to the side, facing the blonde. “Jill…” She had tears prickling her blue gaze now, and before Erin knew it, the younger woman had scurried to the bedroom, retrieved her full outfit from the day before, and had her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. 

 

“Hey,” Erin felt defensive all of a sudden and pulled herself to the entryway of her apartment — not one to back down without a challenge, not the Ghost Girl that she proudly was. “Holtz, fine — whatever, you can be frustrated with me for something I’m really not sure about, but you can’t just walk away without talking about it. Please explain what just happened because I am very confused.”

 

Holtz dropped her bag and set herself on the floor, drawing her knees to her chest and putting her chin on them. She screwed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I don’t want to do this.”

 

“What, Jill, do what?”

 

“Argue,” She mumbled into the skin of her forearm. 

 

“Okay,” Erin trailed off a little, squatting down in front of her normally Saturday morning snuggly scientist. “We could…not…do that…”

 

She observed Holtzmann wipe under her eyes and sighed, feeling almost pity. Erin knew that she had struggled to express her own thoughts often, coming out awkward — yet conveyed. But for Holtzmann, it was damn near impossible at times. “Okay, you’re feeling frustrated and sad, and based on what I’m picking up, it’s because I said I want you and want to care for you.”

 

Catching her breath hitch in her throat, Erin nodded. “So that bothers you — that I said that. Can…can you tell me why? Because I’m missing something.”

 

“I’m not…some…damn…needy…charity.”

 

She spoke in awkward stops and a voice that was nearly panting. 

 

Erin rubbed her lips together and drummed her fingers nervously to her side. Cautiously, she put a hand on Holtz’s back. “I don’t think you’re needy or a…charity case, Jill. I like you. A lot. And I want to take care of you because I like you.”

 

Anger flashed through Holtzmann’s features and she pulled away from Erin, a surge of old feelings, that truly had nothing to do with the beautiful scientist before her, coursed through her like electricity. “Okay, I need to go.”

 

“Holtz — Jill!”

 

Before she could stop her, Holtzmann had her space cat backpack strung over a shoulder and was entering the security code to the apartment. In haste, she wiggled herself out of the doorway and down the hall. Erin could tell there had been hot tears pouring down the woman’s face, mirroring the ones cascading down her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've all been so good, I managed to post this a day early. Thanks for reading! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Rebecca had wanted Jillian to ascend to her potential — but she didn’t want her abusing herself in the process. Teaching her balance, etiquette, social interactions, and general self-help skills was more of a challenge than any single engineering project she’d ever taken on. Jillian didn't follow predictable patterns. She was a snowstorm in the summer, always defying the logical learning cycle. 

 

Her charge had been at a study session on a Friday evening, followed by spending time in the library. Her weekend curfew was more extended than a weeknight (though checking in was an absolute must no matter what), but certainly not into the A.M. hours. After finding the young woman in the library’s extended study wing at one in the morning on Saturday, Rebecca dragged the budding engineer across campus, despite her protests that she still had so much work to do. 

 

“And you have all weekend to do it,” and that was that.

 

Waking up seven hours after arriving home, she was pleased to see that Jillian’s door was cracked open and she was still in bed, a cat curled around her messy short hair. After two months straight of slaving away catching up on coursework and trying to stay current, with a week left until finals, she deserved to rest. Rebecca had been very impressed with her work in the lab, and knew the other classes she was in were showing as much promise through her assignments. She’d be finished with the courses well before Memorial Day. 

 

Around nine o’clock, she was going to start the lazy weekend day by making breakfast when the floorboards above her sofa creaked and a thump was heard before a retch and a splash resounded through the quiet home.

 

“Oh, Jillian,” Rebecca mumbled, wiping her hand over her face with a grimace. Despite her science background, she didn’t necessarily have the stomach for vomit, but also she knew that Holtz would likely make a great mess of herself trying to take care of it. Upon stepping into the bathroom, her repulsion was replaced by concern. Her little blonde protege was laying with her flushed face on the cool tile floor, practically panting as she tried to calm her body down from it’s miserable post-puke panic. 

 

Suddenly in full mom-mode, Rebecca dropped to her knees, about to scoop the baby engineer up, but she protested with a groan. “Too dizzy — hot.”

 

Sighing, she placed the back of her hand on Jillian’s cheek. “You’re burning up.”

 

“‘Becca, now’s not the time to tell me I’m hot.”

 

“You wish,” The older woman found a grin. “I’ll be right back.”

 

“I’ll be right here.”

 

She returned to Jillian hanging over the toilet again, spilling any contents left in her stomach form the day before, her eyes watering reflexively. She choked and sputtered while Rebecca winced and found a hair tie in the mirror cabinet, tucking the sweat-soaked hair back. 

 

Taking the towels that she’d fetched, she soaked them in cool water, draping one on the back of her pupil’s neck.

 

“I told you that you were going to work yourself sick,” Rebecca sighed. “This is why I’m trying to help you stick to a schedule.”

 

Between her sweat-stricken, puffy-eyed pale face and guilty expression, Jillian looked like a wounded puppy. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t apologize to me,” The doctor insisted. Gently, she wiped her student’s face with another wet rag as she came up from the toilet basin to lean against Rebecca’s kneecap, her head weighing a hundred pounds. “Apologize to yourself.”

 

Bringing a limp hand to her chest she patted twice. “Sorry, babe.”

 

Grinning despite it all, Rebecca asked, “Do you think you’ll be alright to go lay down for a little bit?”

 

“Mhm,” She yawned and mumbled thanks to her professor when hoisted to her feet. She forced a dixie cup of water into her trembling hands, gently probing her to drink. 

 

“Slow sips, Jillian,” Her caretaker muttered as she attempted to swig it down. 

 

Handing over her toothbrush, she forced her to at least scrub the vomitous odor from her mouth then guided her slowly and methodically to her room. After being slid into her cool sheets, the younger woman bit her lip. “I gotta finish the lit assignment for Monday. I’m not even done reading.”

 

The scientist disappeared and returned a few minutes later, fussing another cup of water into Jillian’s hands and forcing her to drink. Satisfied, she motioned for her to scoot over, stretched out propped up against the wooden headboard, then took the used copy of a book from under her arm. A _classical_ selection that had been almost torture to read, though Jillian was nearly finished with it.

 

Shaking her head at the title, Rebecca sighed. “They require my brilliant students to take literature courses to be well rounded, then only have them read selections by old, white dudes. What a useless paradox.”

 

Jillian found a giggle and snuggled a little closer to Rebecca as she opened to the last page that had been dog-eared, reading out loud. Though she was drowsy, Jillian commented on the narrative every so often. 

 

After some forty-five minutes, she finished the book and Jillian thanked her with a long hug. “I like being read to.”

 

“You do?” The older woman raised a brow and smiled.

 

“Mhm. We didn’t have a lot of books at my mom’s house. But when I was really little and the government put me on the big white bus to get me to preschool every morning, they’d give us new books once a month. Mom read me one every night, even though it was the same books over and over and we both had them memorized.” She grinned more as she remembered. “I loved when she read _Snowy Day_. She’d make the little boy Peter go _crunch-crunch-crunch_ in the snow and it always made me laugh. Sometimes before she even read it, because I knew it was coming.”

 

“Back when dinosaurs roamed the land and I was in school,” Rebecca started seriously, making the little blonde beside her laugh again. “They taught us to read and that was it. Unless there was a theater selection, all reading becomes silent. Being read to is important.”

 

“Maybe we should build it into our schedule,” Jillian suggested.

 

Rebecca rubbed her sweat-slick scalp and nodded. “Indeed.” She forced a fever reducer into the eighteen-year-old and convinced her to sleep before settling into the research she’d promised her lab for Monday. Jillian spent the majority of her day sleeping and trying not to hurl. By the evening, she was feeling well enough to venture down the steps of Rebecca’s apartment, stretching out across the sofa with her head in the woman’s lap, watching The Mummy on VHS. 

 

She looked back and forth between the movie and the professor-turned-caretaker. When the credits rolled, Jillian slid up so she was able to hug her, despite the smell of being sick clinging to her skin. 

 

“I know, Jillian,” Rebecca said softly, knowing what her young protege was trying to convey through the action. _This is hard for me. I’m not used to this. It_ seems _fake. But it feels like you care. And it feels like you’re sincere._

 

“Thank you, Rebecca,” She said into the veins of the woman’s neck.

 

“Don’t thank me for caring about you.”

 

“Is it more than that?” Jillian questioned with glassy eyes of fever. “Do you love me, Dr. Gorin?”

 

A soft smile and a hand between her shoulder blades was all the answer she needed. Jillian kissed her cheek and smiled. “I love you, too.”

 

X

 

Erin found a genuine laugh when her pack-rat of a friend pulled out a photo of them in high school. She was wearing thick white tights under a floral knee-length pleated skirt and a denim vest over a pink button down shirt. Abby could have been auditioning to be the Basket Case in the Breakfast Club, with the addition of oversized glasses. They were in the middle of a dynamite dance break during a study session in Erin’s yellow childhood room when her mom sneaked the door open to take a picture of her daughter having fun with a friend. The next picture in the album showed the two of them, a minute later, with bright smiles and engulfed in a hug, posing. 

 

Erin almost felt emotional as she flipped through the photo book that Abby had unearthed in her cramped one bedroom apartment. The living room was cut in half by a bamboo room divider, with tubs upon tubs of times stored in somewhat organized fashion behind it. As she sat on the sofa, she didn’t dare look up to the bulletin board above the couch which was completely covered by pictures of the team. She only wanted to focus on the good, warm feeling that being with Abby could bring her. Thinking about the morning’s incident was making her slightly nauseated.

 

Her short friend joined her with a bowl of chips and two sodas, flipping the TV to mute. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

 

Shrugging, Erin rubbed her fingers together nervously. “I thought that maybe I was going to be in a real relationship.”

 

“Erin, what are you talking about? You’ve been in plenty of relationships!” Abby’s tone was light and positive, but its was clear to Erin she didn’t quite get _it_. 

 

“Sure, but — never one where I could just…be myself,” She started to explain, feeling her eyes start to mist up already. “Even in long-term relationships, if you count a few months as long-term…I’ve always pretended to be someone that I’m not…I think you know that better than anyone.” Sighing, she drew her chin down closer to her chest. 

 

Suddenly feeling sympathy for her friend, Abby lifted a shoulder. “You were in some pretty long relationships. It makes me sad to hear that you were…faking who you were for months to be with someone.”

 

Feeling her face swell with redness, Erin let out another long breath. “I tried so hard, Abby. For what?”

 

“Hey, hey,” Her fellow scientist tugged her close, holding her hand in a squeeze. “You came back, Erin. It took you a long time to find your way, but you came back. You jumped into the ghost zone to save me. This you, the real you, is the best you. And I love this you so much.”

 

Frowning back her tears, Erin hugged her neck. “You’re my best friend and I know we’ve been through this but I will never forgive myself for those years that I tried to pretend you weren’t. I love you, too, Abby.”

 

There was a long stretch of silence before Abby let go and smoothed Erin’s locks, which she’d worn frizzy that day in an inability to care after Holtz had left her.

 

Squeezing her eyes shut, Erin finally confessed, “I don’t know when it happened…or how — but I really like Holtzmann.”

 

Abby grinned in reply. “Well that’s great, because she fell for you on day one.”

 

“We’ve been going on dates — Friday nights over the last few weeks, just the two of us so I could get to know her better.”

 

Abby was beaming like she’d just been given the secret to opening a ghost portal. Then her cheeks sunk a bit. “I have this feeling like you’re telling me this was going really well until today.”

 

“Yeah,” Erin mumbled and picked at her cuticle until Abby reached for her hand once again. Moaning, she leaned her head back. “She’s stayed the night every Friday since the New Year. Just — like howwe do, like a sleepover. We haven’t done… _anyway_.” She cleared her throat, “…This morning, we were all snuggled up and warm…” A dreamy look washed over her. “But then, I said I liked taking care of her and she got all clammed up. When I said it again, trying to figure out what made her uncomfortable, she left! And hasn’t returned my calls or texts — and she didn’t go to her apartment or the lab.”

 

“I’m not completely surprised,” Abby sighed honestly. “The flirting and tough girl exterior cover up a lot of sadness, I think.”

 

Erin curled into her side and laid her head on Abby’s shoulder. “I think I got my hopes up for nothing.”

 

“Eh, Erin, it’s Holtzmann. She doesn’t hold a grudge. Maybe she just needed time to process it. She’s crazy about you, that I know, and I don’t think she’d be willing to throw it all away so fast.”

 

Swallowing hard, Erin shrugged. “Maybe. I really just want to talk to her.” 

 

“Well, no offense, but you’re kind of the queen of non-confrontation as a go-to strategy for dealing with conflicts.”

 

Erin wanted to roll her eyes, but knew it was true. It wouldn’t be very fair to expect Holtzmann to have to conform to standards she couldn’t even reach herself. The woman she was six months prior probably would have made an ill-timed joke, ran off, then pretended the altercation never happened in the first place. 

 

“Tell you what — let me see if I can get a hold of her, just make sure she’s okay. Then I say we watch the hell outta some Swayze movies!”

 

Abby attempted to call Holtz’s phone, not surprised to not get an answer, but with what had happened, a little more concerned than she’d usually have been. Trying Patty to see if their other Ghostbuster had heard from their resident engineer, she was overcome with the usual giddy feeling she got when Patty greeted her. “Yo, what’s good, girl?”

 

“Hey, Pats. Sorry to bug you, I know you’re doing your weekend thing but have you heard from Holtz?”

 

“I’m lookin’ at her right now. She crashed my _weekend thing_ couple’a hours ago. Think she’s planning on morphin’ into my roommate’s couch and becoming part of the furniture.”

 

“Did she tell you about what happened?”

 

“Not quite. Workin’ on it,” Patty responded.

 

“Alright. Well — tell her that I said hello and to call if she wants.” 

 

“Will do baby. Have a good night.”

 

Abby patted Erin’s shoulder. “Patty’ll get her all straightened out.”

 

“Well, I hope not, that wouldn’t work out so well in my favor then.”

 

Bursting out laughing, Abby nearly snorted. “You just made your first gay joke out of yourself! My baby’s growin’ up!”

 

Erin couldn’t hide her smile at her own successful humor. Turning to the left, she got into Abby’s personal space, one of only three other people on the planet allowed to do so. Abby grinned andtouched her hair before turning the volume back on. “I know this is all gonna work out. But, you gotta promise me — once you’re dating Holtzmann, I’m still gonna be your best friend.”

 

The auburn haired woman gave a firm nod and assured her, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

On the other end of town, Holtzmann was laying on her belly on the sofa, face mostly pressed into the cushion, arms limp at her sides. She shot Patty a glare as she hung up the phone. “Why did you betray my location?”

 

Patty squatted in front of her, a gentle expression meeting her eyes. Touching Holtz’s cheek tenderly she responded, “Because, family worries about one another when they know the other’s not okay. We shouldn’t make them worry because we’re sad.”

 

Sliding her chin off the padding, Holtz placed her whole face against Patty’s boobs, nuzzling between them with a mewling sound.

 

“Yeah, baby, no — family don’t motorboat one another.”

 

“You like it,” Holtz teased, voice muffled by the silky material of Patty’s top. 

 

The older woman chuckled, making blonde hair rise with the movement of her chest. Sliding her fingers into the strands, she tucked her own chin on top of her head. “You’re crazy, but I love you. C’mon, let’s get some food and watch movies. You don’t have to talk about it, but it’d help me help you.”

 

Holtz let Patty scoop her off the couch and stood stoically by the door. With a “ _Really_ ,” the taller woman wrestled Holtz’s limp frame into her jacket and all but dragged her to the door. 

 

They were quiet as they waited for an elevator, when suddenly Holtzmann let out a flustered, “I’m madly in love with Erin and we’ve been going on dates for a few weeks but I can’t date a woman who just wants something to take care of. ‘M not a freakin’ puppy.”

 

“Could fool me with them eyes,” The other woman joked. She got only silence in return and Patty turned and looked at the suddenly trembling woman with a long blink as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Looping an arm around Holtz’s, she guided her in, then held her body close to her side. “So this is pretty serious, then? I’m gonna need a little context, boo bear.”

 

They arrived at a corner diner and Holtz insisted on sharing the same side of the booth as her friend, wrapping herself up at her side. She explained what had happened that morning, triggering her current behavior.

 

“So, you don’t wanna date Erin if she cares about you?”

 

“No!” Holtz pouted, stuffing her fist into her pocket and kicking the booth opposite them before pulling her leg up to prop it on their seat. “I’m worried she sees me as someone who needs taking care of. That this is all just her satisfying some instinct, not love.”

 

“Okay,” Patty hummed. “I get you now. And yeah, I can understand your fear. Erin is very concerned with…well, everything. You know she’s got a pretty wicked case of anxiety.”

 

Frowning, Holtz leaned her head back. She’d spent too much time in her life having psycho-babble tossed her way about a variety of conditions she could or could not have. The last thing she wanted to think about was Erin, stuffed in some miserable office, having someone blabber on about how her brain didn’t fire correctly. As far was Holtzmann was concerned, Erin’s brain fired in a way that connected the entire universe through physics.

 

Tugging her earlobe, she listened to Patty as their food arrived, though she was hardly hungry for the grilled cheese anymore. “She’s fussy, you know? And…Still learning to be herself, I think, not what the world expects of her. She been alone for a long time. And I think she’s been lonely. So to have somebody she cares about? Yeah, baby, she probably just wants to share all that with you.”

 

Holtz slinked into her seat so she was almost eye-level with the table. Taking the pickle slice from her plate, she chomped noisily and sighed, closing the bright blue eyes behind her thick framed lenses. “It took me a long time to believe that Dr. Gorin really loved me. I didn’t get it. Maybe — I’m just used to hooking up with a girl and runnin’ out, so I don’t…get this either.”

 

Patty squeezed her shoulder and took a bite of her club sandwich. “That’s probably more it, baby girl.”

 

“But — hey, if this all works out with Erin?” She started, locking Patty’s dark gaze with an intense one of her own. “It doesn’t change anything with the rest of us. I still love you and Abby to pieces. I just won’t be fondling you. As much.”

 

“Thank god for small miracles.”

 

They finished eating and Holtz convinced the taller woman to take her on a walk to burn off some energy, stopping in a toy shop and somehow managing to walk out with a dinosaur head on a stick that opened and closed it’s mouth with a pully. She chomped it noisily, making it nibble Patty’s ear before the attempting-to-be-stoic-and-failing friend snatched it from her hands. Letting out a pterodactyl sound, Holtz attempted to climb her and retrieve it, but Patty extracted her revenge by using it to bite her fingers. Pretending to be wounded, Holtz tossed herself dramatically onto a nearby bus bench, an arm draped over her eyes. 

 

“You know, it’s amazing you were having trouble finding someone to date?” Patty teased her as they waited for said bus, using the dinosaur to coax Holtz up. 

 

She held onto it, sticking her tongue out before falling into a smile and adjusting her glasses. “Patty, I love you.”

 

Her time-and-again savior rolled her eyes but returned the sentiment, pulling her close in a side hug. “So, do you think you can take tonight…consider that perhaps Erin is just as crazy about you as you are her? That maybe her way of showing she cares is by caring? I don’t want toy to lose out on her because you’re worried about her mothering you. We’re all gonna take turns ensuring you’re caring for you. Just in different ways.”

 

Giving a long nod, Holtz sighed. “Yeah. I think I’m gonna call Rebecca, too.” The bus pulled up and she sighed, pressing a quick kiss to her friend’s cheek. “Thanks, Patty.”

 

Jumping on board and reaching into her pocket for her metro pass, Holtz swiped it on the machine, then found an empty seat in the back, sending a text message to her mentor, asking if she’d have time to talk.

 

_For you, Jillian, always._

 

Smiling to herself, Holtz untangled the wad of earbuds that were tucked on an inside seam of her jacket, plugging them into her phone and pulling up a playlist, staring out the window and trying not to think too hard about Erin. But the music made it difficult to do anything else. Swallowing a lump in her throat and refusing to cry on the bus, the blonde let out a loud breath and waited for her stop. 

 

Finally arriving close enough to her apartment, she hopped off the bus and immediately told her phone who to call.

 

“Good evening, Jillian,” A warm voice greeted her. “I trust you’re not in any sort of danger?”

 

“No — I’m not,” She started, feeling herself perk up at just the sound of her mentor. “Just…looking for a distraction, I guess.

 

“…Would you like to explain from what?”

 

“Not really,” She admitted. “I mostly just want to hear you talk about science.”

 

“Well, I suppose if that’s all I’m good for —“

 

“Becca,” Holtz whined as she unlocked her apartment and kicked her boots into a pile with her backpack and dinosaur toy. “I’m just trying to avoid thinking about something that kind of hurts. Can you please help me?”

 

There was a pause before the woman four hours away started, “We’ve been working on exploring a gravity increasing mechanism that could be employed for military purposes.”

 

“Sweet.”

 

X

 

Rebecca heard Jillian before she saw her — a typical reaction. The bustle of blonde energy flittered through her lab with a spring in her clunky boots (for fucks sake, it was _May_ ). 

 

“Dr. Gorin!” She called loudly, safety glasses and lab coat halfway on as she maneuvered through the graduate students in the midst of the last hour of their final projects in the fleeting remaining time in the semester.

 

“Jillian, now is not the —“

 

“I completed _everything_!” 

 

“—time for your interruptions. I’ll see you at a respectable time. You may find my schedule posted outside my office.”

 

Frowning, Jillian was about to slump away when she caught the twinkle in Rebecca’s eye. Grinning and hugging her paper to her chest, she bounced out of the lab and to the woman’s office.

 

Sure enough, as dictated by her schedule, Rebecca was walking with her usual poise towards her favorite student, the unmistakable wrinkle of pride evident in the corners of her eyes beneath her rectangular glasses. She unlocked the door while Jillian rocked on her toes, beaming. Once they were safely inside the privacy of the small space, the younger woman flung herself at her mentor. Rebecca caught her with an _umph_ , chuckling into the top of her swept-back hair. “I’m very proud of you, Jillian.”

 

Her body went limp at the statement and she sighed in a near-dreamy fashion. “Thank you, Rebecca,” She breathed. “Thank you for everything.”

 

“You can thank me by assuring me I’ll never have to stick my neck out like that again. And…”

 

Jillian looked up, willing to accept whatever consequences she must to remain in her mentor’s good favor. “…By being my undergraduate lab assistant this summer.”

 

“Are-are you serious?” Her eyes popped open wide and her jaw dropped before she got misty and rubbed her cheek against the woman’s sternum again. “Aren’t there seniors who applied for the position?”

 

“They’re all idiots. I need someone I can trust.”

 

Blinking at the bold truth expressed by the statement, Jillian simply gave a singular nod and bit her lip before squeezing Rebecca’s upper arm. “When can we get started?”

 

X

 

Erin sat behind Holtzmann in the Ecto, nervous about their eight a.m. bust as they hadn’t had a chance to discuss the events of the day previous. 

 

“If we get shit on for busting the ‘holy ghost’ on a Sunday morning at this church, Imma be pissed,” Patty mumbled. Abby snickered from her seat up front while Holtz was weaving in and out of traffic to a nineties Green Day anthem. “Anyway, ya’ll, looks like this lil’church has been around forever. Probably bunch’a nuns or priests grew old and died up in there — maybe too many funerals, I don’t know. There’s nothing malicious turning up on the search.” The sky was an ominous gray as they neared the site. Erin’s flip-flopping stomach had traveled to her leg, which was bopping a little until Patty put a hand on it and offered her a silent side smirk. “You’re alright.”

 

Letting out a loud breath as the woman’s soothing presence reminded her of the body’s necessary breathing function, she smiled and leaned into her, noting the way Holtz’s gaze flickered to her in the rear-view mirror.

 

Holtz turned off the siren before pulling up to the church and turning to Patty. “As the one who cite’s the lord’s name the majority of the time, I vote you talk to the priest.” 

 

“Oh my god,” The only non-scientist in the group rumbled, then shot Holtz a glare at her shit-eating grin. “I hate you.”

 

“I know,” She winked and headed around the back of the vehicle, starting to unload the gear. She assisted Abby in strapping in before tugging her own pack on and lighting up the wand. Parishioners were gathered off to the side of the church on the chilly February morning, watching with disbelief as the women ascended on them. A priest in a black under-robe greeted them at the entrance, thanking them for their hasty arrival. Holtz winced when he called them “God’s blessing,” not really sure if he’d consider her gay, atheist, non-conforming ass that under any other occasion. 

 

“We’re here to help,” Patty said assuredly, stepping forward so they could enter the premises. Erin was about to cling to her side, not wanting to be stuck in an awkward situation with Holtz should the need to split up arise.

 

The engineer had other plans however, and with a brave sigh, she approached the physicist before they could enter the sanctuary. Though the look in her eyes was guilty. “I’m sorry,” She managed out through a tight throat. 

 

Feeling automatic relief, the older woman let out a breath to indicate as much. Erin touched her shoulder and gave a squeeze. “We’ll talk about it later?”

 

“Yeah. I — just…needed you…to know, before we go in there —“

 

Assuring her, “I get it, and I appreciate that.” Erin bit her lip and nodded. “Let’s focus?”

 

Holtz followed her in, grateful Abby had taken the PKE meter so she didn’t have to worry about missing a signal in her mixed state. 

 

The shortest of their she-wolf pack was wandering between pews with a furrowed brow. Finally shaking her head, she mumbled, “Weird readings…Holtz? Come look at your gadget — make sure it’s working alright.” Stepping from Erin’s side, she fiddled with the settings in the upgraded meter, also confused by what was being displayed. Abby cringed. “It looks like — class four, but — it can’t be if it’s a vapor.”

 

“Unless it’s the power of the almighty,” Holtz grumbled half a joke, banging the technology against the wooden pew and making the screen fizzle out before coming back to life. “The hell?”

 

A chill filled the church, followed by the foul smell of rotten eggs. “Girls, I think we got here a nonhuman entity,” Abby warned and waved her hand in front of her nose. “God, that’s foul. C’mon, spook — show yourself!”

 

Erin felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up as Patty moved closer to her so their elbows brushed. “You got that bad feeling too, baby?”

 

“Yeah,” She responded. “Like…a hopeless feeling.”

 

She witnessed Holtz tossing the PKE meter in frustration, letting it clatter to the floor. Abby was about to chastise her when the blonde’s reflexes took over and shoved her back and lit up a floating green mass with her wand.

 

A screeching sound filled the worship site and the women went to work, following the six-foot long expanse of energy around the room, trying to blast it without too much collateral damage to the church. Holtzmann jumped onto a pew and from her belt drew a pistol prototype she’d designed, but hadn’t field tested. She hoped that the calculations Erin had drawn up before their Christmas break had been correct, and that it would be possible to solidify ecto-energy.

 

With a focusing noise, she looked through the scope, trying to lock a target on the fast-moving vapor. Erin was behind her with her wand, still trying to wrangle the spirit.

 

“Holtz, I don’t think it’s going to work on a vapor!” She called out.

 

“You got any better ideas? My dumb ass didn’t fix the last chipper prototype and that’s the only other thing I can think of that might irradiate this thing if we can’t get a hold of it.”

 

Frowning, the physicist continued to try her best while Abby and Patty moved into a triangular formation with her at the top of the point. Holding it still as long as they could, they gave Holtz a split-second of lifelessness to fire. Her spot-on aim hit the target and within seconds, it turned from green to an icy blue.

 

“Holy shit!” Erin cried out in joy, completely surprised that her calculations had been correct as the cloud ceased movement. Holtz jumped down, tossing the trap from her back and about to activate it open when the blue vapor seemed to glow a bright white and an explicative could be heard as Patty drew nearer to the duo.

 

“Oh, shoot,” Holtz winced as well as a fully-formed creature appeared out of the mass. “I, uh…think we made it mad.”

 

“No kidding!” Abby was at her side suddenly as they could only stare momentarily at the twelve-foot tall demon-looking creature that was flying, wingless, around the room. “Okay, Erin, Patty, head up by the alter. I’m gonna Ab-Blast it towards them, you two ricochet back, then Holtz be ready for the trap.”

 

Reaching for a lightweight grenade-like launcher that was strapped to the side of her proton pack opposite the wand, she ran to the back of the church while the beast circled them, taunting in horrifying screeches. It took a few minutes, as there was a long wait time between grenade tosses, and despite Holtz’s claim, the poofs could be massive if not hitting their intended ghost.

 

Finally getting the rhythm for the ghost’s pattern, Abby took fire with an impressive yell. The grenade blasted at the ghost, knocking it forward as she anticipated, sending it spiraling into Erin and Patty’s direction. 

 

They were both prepared to fire at Holtz, but the seconds they had to process the entire situation didn’t translate well enough into action. As Patty hit the trigger on the proton wand, Erin prepared to do the same. Unfortunately, the trajectory of the massive, blue demon-like creature turned slightly to the left, and though Patty’s aim was good, the stream on the gun wasn’t strong enough to prevent it from crashing into Erin when it fell down at the alter.

 

She didn’t have time to move out of the way as she’d assumed her wand would hold it securely. Instead, Erin was tossed back onto the most sacred part of the church with a scream, pain shooting up her arm as she shot it out to brace herself against the solid marble alter.

 

Abby and Holtz both ran forward and Patty was hurling insults and using every ounce of muscle in her to contain the beast. Having weakened it significantly, Abby was also able to grapple with it, and the two streams held it sturdy. She called out for Holtz to trap the ghost, but the blonde had rushed to Erin’s side, trying to tend to her.

 

“Holtzmann, trap it!” Patty screeched. 

 

Erin’s vision was full of white dots as she tried to sit up. Holtz had a hand on her chest, trying to get her to stay down as words wouldn’t fall from her lips in the panicked state she was in. 

 

“Holtzmann!”

 

Turning around in the nick of time, Holtz slammed her hand down onto the trap activator, sending a white light up that tried to suck the ghost in. 

 

She grunted and hollered loudly as she drew her wand with haste again, trying to help guide the ghost into the trap but to no avail. “Patty, get your gun!” She finally called out, keeping a firm handle on the ring.

 

Unable to do both wrangling and draw a new weapon at once, when Patty let go, the ghost flew up towards the rafters of the church, squawking it’s terrible sound before hurling itself down and barreling onto the steps. Holtz yelled as she was thrown off her feet and backwards, her head slamming into the cement base of the alter steps.

 

She fluttered in and out of consciousness for several minutes, awake but unaware of how the bust finally ended. Holtz didn’t really snap out of her brain-trauma induced stupor until a male paramedic attempted to unzip her jumpsuit to wiggle her arm out and check her blood pressure. With the unwanted man trying to unrobe her, Holtz yelled and smacked his hand away, a smattering of nonsense falling from her lips while Patty rushed over to calm her down.

 

“Hey, hey, baby girl! Easy! You just knocked yourself out good twenty minutes ago, let the man do his job!”

 

Suddenly jumpy and aggressive, Holtzmann refused to be touched as she tried to figure out everything that was going on around her. It wasn’t until some thirty-odd minutes later and a ride to the hospital in the confines of the back seat of the Ecto with Patty driving up front, that she started to realize what was going on.

 

“My head…” She mumbled, gently touching her scalp. “Patty!” She shouted suddenly, eyes wide and alert. “Where’s Erin? Is she okay?”

 

“She elected to take the ambulance provided for her, thank you very much, Ms. Anti-man-hands. Goodness sake, you are a big drama queen in such a bitty body.”

 

“Ugh — my back…damn, damn, damn. Remind me to reinforce the cushion on the back padding.”

 

“There is no cushion on the pack’s backs, Doctor McFeisty.”

 

“Well, then I gotta make some. Fuck. This is gonna be an epic bruise. Damnit, my head. Patty — drive faster!”

 

X

 

_July 2002 — MIT Labs_

 

Having spent the better part of the last eight months of her life learning how to care for herself, Jillian found that she actually liked making herself look _good_. Of course — her definition of good and the rest of the world’s differed radically, but she liked the way she looked with clean hair, tied up in a knot at the back of her neck, held up by a floral headband that she’d stolen from her mentor’s dresser. It clashed horribly with the striped romper that was leftover from an early nineties mom exercise class, but the blue in it matched the pale colored lab coat she had over the outfit. 

 

The chemicals she and Dr. Gorin were working with on a sticky summer afternoon were extremely temperamental, and she was exercising as much caution as she could while following directions from the professor on her personal project to the letter. 

 

“Easy, Jillian. It won’t be merciful.”

 

“Wouldn’t want it to be,” She winked and slowly poured a vile from one test tube to another without wincing when it foamed. It was supposed to do that — right?

 

Rebecca smiled and nodded. “Perfect. Now — we let it rest and hope the lab doesn’t explode in our absence. If it does, we pull the security footage before the police get to it and they never know the difference.”

 

Snickering, she tore off the blue jacket, hanging it on the hook, revealing the tank top portion of the romper. Rebecca’s action had the same effect, though her outfit was a bit more conservative. “Ready for the forced human interaction part of life?”

 

Whining, she tossed her head back but sighed a yes, wrapping herself around Dr. Gorin’s waist. “On one hand it’s super nice that you want me to attend all your important functions, on the other hand — why do we _have_ to go?”

 

“Because it’s expected, my sweet, and while I appreciate a healthy dose of justified rebellion, sometimes you just have to do what’s required. C’mon. A barbecue waits for no woman.” 

 

A fancy summer faculty party was underway a few streets over at one of the dean’s homes. Jillian clung near her mentor’s side for the majority of the event, that was until she recognized one of the waitresses from the chemistry class she’d had that spring (once she started attending, of course).

 

Shyly waving, she was surprised when the young woman took off her vest and apron, winking before sneaking up to her a few minutes later. “Hey, Jillian?”

 

“Yeah, um, Taylor, right?”

 

Taylor nodded, her dark features accentuated by a light amount of blush and a pretty pink eyeshadow. “My shift is over, but Dean Howard invited me to stay and enjoy, if I wanted to. Do you want to go get some grub?”

 

Jillian bit her lip and tugged her earlobe before looking over at Rebecca, who answered her silent question with raised brows and a “please, go interact with your peer” expression.

 

“Sure,” She replied bravely, taking the girl’s accepted hand and following her to make up a plate.

 

They sat at a two-seater table for nearly three hours, talking, laughing, and (hopelessly) flirting (on Jillian’s end, Taylor was quite a pro). Leaving the party around the evening hour with a phone number written on a paper napkin, Holtz ambled home slowly with Dr. Gorin, who was rambling about one of her fellow professors’ inane ideas. 

 

Stepping up to the front walk, the blonde took a centering breath and quietly stated, “I think I need to tell you something.”

 

She earned the pause of Rebecca’s hands in twisting her key into the lock. “Yes?” 

 

Squeezing her eyes shut, Jillian slew the words out like a fast pitch. “I’m gay.”

 

Dr. Gorin looked at her for merely a moment, then resumed her work of opening the door. Pushing it open, she rolled her eyes and let out a tut. “I thought you were about to tell me something I didn’t know with that dramatic preface.”

 

Blinking and staring up at the woman, she found a kind smile and accepting eyes. “Go on — wash your hands and pick a book. It’s seven o’clock.”

 

X

 

Holtzmann groaned when her mentor entered her apartment. When she’d written: “Let Dr. Gorin know,” on her emergency medical care form, she assumed that her colleagues would figure out, that would mean in case of _extreme_ injury, not just for a concussion she’d been cleared for within a few hours of being admitted to the emergency room.

 

“I’m fine,” She insisted as the older woman forwent a hello and immediately began shucking the button-up shirt that Holtz had on over the pair of gift-shop sweatpants Abby had handed her before they left the hospital. She felt the woman palpating the bruises on her shoulders and upper arms, moaning a few times in pain.

 

Rebecca whisked herself to the fridge, tutting, but not surprised when she didn’t find a bag of frozen vegetables. Taking a few ice cubes from the tray and a cloth from the bathroom, she wrapped it up and secured it with a hair tie that was on the floor near Holtz’s bed. Guiding the young woman to lean back, she placed it on a purpling place on her shoulder, earning a hiss. 

 

When she returned back to the kitchen, Holtzmann tucked her tail between her legs, knowing she was about to be scolded for not having food in her apartment. Rebecca, tight lipped, merely sighed. “ _Honestly_. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

 

True to her word, she returned with a bag of takeout a few minutes later, motioning for Holtz to stand up, removing the homemade ice pack, which was rapidly growing soggy. Rebecca pulled the stools out from their cabinet hiding space, then the counter. Holtzmann instantly dove into the spaghetti, wasting no time slurping up noodles. 

 

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but you really didn’t have to come. Did you fly here?”

 

“Red-eye,” Dr. Gorin shrugged. “I came by choice. From the sounds of it, Abby will be busy taking care of Erin for a few days. Patty had to take care of hordes of paperwork for both of you this evening, at least, I figured I could be of some assistance, see to it you’re caring for yourself.” Holtz’s cheeks heated up but she gave a shrug and a nod before letting out a long sigh. 

 

Stuffing a meatball into her mouth, she started to explain what had gone on the last few days with Erin, which ultimately led to half the disaster of the bust. Dr. Gorin gave a simple snort and shook her head. “Somehow, I can’t say I’m surprised to see you pushing away the girl you’ve wanted once you got her.”

 

Holtz groaned and put her head in her hands after finishing the last of her meal, only to find a sweet sensation being pushed against her lips. Dr. Gorin had a cookie held out for her, which she grabbed at with her teeth. 

 

“Her way of showing that she cares about you is by caring _for_ you, with you. It’s not as if she’s trying to mother you. Even if she was, it wouldn’t be long before Erin, like me, realizes, you’re quite un-mother-able. Jillian, just consider the notion that this girl apparently really likes you, and wants to show it in her way. Please don’t push her away.” There was a pause and Rebecca shrugged. “I’m quite fond of this one.”

 

Snickering through her cookie crumbs, Holtz finished the sweet before sliding from the spinning stool and sticking herself to her mentor in a side hug. “I’m glad you came to check on me. I love you.”

 

The next day was spent being nursed by Rebecca before saying her good-bye outside the firehouse on Tuesday, accepting the tight embrace with one of her own before heading into headquarters.

 

Patty was on the phone and excitedly took down the name and number of the individual she was speaking with, then hung up, sweeping her favorite bitty blonde into her arms. “Baby, how you feelin’? I’da come over, but I figured you were fine with Dr. G.”

 

“She helped me out.” Holtz nodded against her sternum, kissing her collarbone before untangling herself. “Feelin’ alright. Yeah, little sore — couldn’t put on a proton pack right now, but fine enough to work.”

 

Patty could see vulnerability in her eyes, but didn’t commented on it. “Abby’ll be here any minute. Erin’s feeling better, too, but she’s strictly off work duty for the week, doctor’s orders.”

 

Holtzmann sank herself into a desk chair, swirling it around as she tried to think of what she’d intended on doing for the week. Using her legs to push the rolling chair towards Erin’s desk, she looked at the calendar to see if there had been an agenda scribbled out in her neat writing.

 

Her eyes popped when she realized what day it was and the loud, “Fuckin’a!” She sputtered out across the firehouse earned Patty and Kevin’s attention as their quasi-euless secretary popped into the building with Abby. “It’s V-Day!”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Patty tossed a hand out. “We don’t celebrate that here. Ain’t welcomin’ no ghost of my love life in today!”

 

Holtzmann was dutifully pouting, arms crossed scowl on while Abby was crossing the floor, wrapping her up. “How’s it hanging, Holtz?”

 

“It’s Valentine’s Day!” She kicked the floor, grunting before rubbing her cheek against her friend’s shoulder. 

 

When Abby pulled away, she watched Holtz whine her way up the stairs, mumbling to herself about ‘stupid,’ and ‘forgetful.’

 

Patty perched a brow at the sight, then eyed her friend. “How long we let her bang around up there before we drag her down and make her spill the beans?”

 

“Eh, give her an hour. She had a nasty fall and a day of yesterday. Let her tinker and make stuff explode for a bit. Then we’re gonna set her up to surprise Erin so they can both have a good Valentine’s and get over the funk.”

 

Patty frowned. “Who gonna surprise Patty, huh? Little white bitches gettin’ a nice February 14th. I tell you what, ain’t nobody enjoying this chocolate desert tonight!”

 

Abby snorted and gave her a shove. “Galentine’s for us?”

 

Laughing into a high-five, Patty nodded. “Galentine’s it is, boo.”

 

X

 

Holtz felt guilty after rapping on Erin’s door, hoping she wasn’t disturbing her sleep. Abby would’ve just used a key, but the engineer didn’t want to spook Erin by just stepping in, given that she was expecting her childhood best friend.

 

Before she could even been revealed, Erin started speaking, “Abby you can — oh!” 

 

When her face brightened at the sight of the blonde, Holtz automatically felt better. She stepped in when Erin tugged the door wider to invite her. “Hey. Sorry. Not Abby.”

 

“I see that,” Erin stated obviously and smirked, looking at the brown paper bag in the woman’s arms and taking in her backpack, she assumed that the blonde was there to stay. Though a heavy conversation would need to be held first, the very idea warmed her to her bones. Holtz stared at the clean, white cast on her left arm, a guilty feeling reaching her eyes as Erin tugged her sweater further down on it.

 

“Um, so,” Holtz toed off her oxfords and pressed her lips together, releasing them in a popping sound and squinting beneath her wire-rimmed frames. She spun around once. “I’m — ah, gonna make you dinner, if that’s okay?”

 

“Sure,” Erin bit her own lip in another smile. “What are we having?”

 

“Uhh — eggplant parmesan?”

 

Seeing just how nervous she was in her facial expressions alone, Erin assured her, “That sounds great. Want me in there with you or do you want to do it yourself?”

 

“No, I-I’ll be good,” She stuttered, heading into the kitchen

 

Erin nodded, not feeling awkward herself, but wishing she could ease Holtz’s tension. “I’ll be binge-watching the new Full House show on Netflix — it’s insanely heterosexual, so if you wind up needing help, I’m happy to press pause.”

 

Holtz found a little smirk at the comment and bobbed her head, shrugging her jacket off and setting it on the tall stool before washing her hands and getting to work. 

 

She hummed to herself, trying to rid some of her anxious energy while she chopped, prepared, melted, and cooked away, heating sauce, boiling noodles, and steaming vegetables.

 

Forty some minutes later, Erin’s sight of site was interrupted a little awkward blonde lady in a pair of referee-inspired striped pants with a long mahogany silk robe over it, a jazzy space-themed t-shirt and vest on top as well. She fiddled with the arm of her glasses before thanking Erin when she turned off the TV. Fidgeting with her hands, then her hair, she took a long breath before encapsulating the woman of her affection. One hand held the top of her head to her chest, the other her back, and a leg wrapped around her lap. Erin let out a little laugh of a sound, nuzzling into the hold. It was long and fulfilling, but Erin still wanted a little more from the woman. “As much as actions speak louder than words, I’d still really like to hear yours?”

 

Holtz cleared her throat and pulled back, not able to meet Erin’s eyes as she explained herself, stumbling through her feelings, but conveying them nonetheless. “I…was worried…you-you didn’t, like me, enough just to like, me, but having…someone to-to take care of, and I uh, don’t just want, to be managed and put on a schedule, but be in love and I’m sorry that I doubted that from you, it was wrong, and I overreacted and stepped out before you could explain it and I’m sorry but I love you and feel really badly and want to make it up to you.”

 

Erin blinked and processed the words as they were said, clearing the stuttering to make sense of the profound statement. Smiling sweetly, she cupped Holtzmann’s cheek with her non-casted palm and drew her into a long, sweet kiss. Holtz sighed dreamily into the press of lips, falling back onto Erin’s lap. Drawing her legs on either side of the woman’s thighs, she kissed deeply, bravely adding a little tongue and earning Erin’s moan while her plaster-coated arm rested against her side, unable to bend around her waist.

 

Recognizing this and recalling somewhere in her mind that she’d just made a damn fine dinner, Holtz pulled back to nuzzle their foreheads together and utter quietly, “How about we continue this after we eat? Don’t want it getting too cold.”

 

“Y-yeah,” Erin managed to work out, eyes half-lidded in a dreamy state of lust. “Dinner.”

 

Holtz helped her to her feet, then guided her to the kitchen, where Erin found a little, “Aww, Holtz!” The sight before her had clearly been fashioned out of love; a red tablecloth (which had just been a piece of fabric Holtz had in her supply collection that she’d hastily stitched an edge onto) with a dozen sprayed pink and red hand-crafted hearts made from spare parts in the lab. A delicious looking meal was waiting on their plates, and Holtz had found a white mug in the firehouse, then sharpied their logo on it, only instead of the no symbol, the ghost was in a red heart. 

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Erin.”

 

“This is so sweet,” She cooed, turning with a glassy gaze to her partner, who appeared shy and sheepish. “Aww, Holtz, this is honestly the nicest thing…sorry, I’m getting a little emotional. No one’s ever…”

 

She didn’t need to finish the statement. Holtz kissed her cheek then motioned for her to sit. Erin eyed all the little hearts, knowing she was going to put them in one of her memory boxes and treasure them.

 

Just as Holtz was going to sit down, Erin slightly embarrassed to do so, asked, “Um — could…could you grab my phone? I…want, um — to take a picture with you?”

 

Lighting up even brighter than she was, Holtz bopped to the living room, snatching the Apple device from the coffee table, then lining up so she was behind Erin. Flipping the camera open with a swipe of her thumb, she flipped it to face them, catching a bit of the spread as she held it up and over. Erin grinned and Holtz kissed her cheek before snapping the picture, then took another where she was smiling as well. Erin thanked her, tucked the phone in her pocket, then lifted the mug of tea while Holtz picks up a soda bottle. “Happy V-Day,” Holtz winked and they shared cheers.

 

X

 

Six weeks passed.

 

Erin and Holtz continued their trend of going out on Friday nights, casually kissing, snuggling, and holding slumber parties. Erin had her cast off and was attending physical therapy for her wrist, something the entire team was more than grateful for as busting for over a month with a three man team was not ideal. She wasn’t coping well with missing out on the action either and was more than ready to join them again.

 

On a sunny Saturday morning in March, Erin was woken up with a gentle kiss to her nape and a pair of arms around her pajama covered middle. Holtz trailed kisses down her spine and over her shoulders, making the other woman unable to grumble the awakening. 

 

Holtz sat up when she rolled onto her back, a warm hand on her belly beneath the swell of her breasts in a tight top. “You’ve gotta get up for therapy,” She said sweetly. It was two weeks into the program and given her schedule at work, Erin had elected to go in for sessions in their early Saturday hours, regretting it dearly already.

 

“Don’t wanna,” She rolled over and tried to nestle into Holtz’s side but the blonde caught her shoulder, making her whine. “Meanie.”

 

Holtz winked and tossed the blankets off Erin’s frame, making her curl into herself more, a sleepy, adorable sight.

 

“I’ll make you coffee, you get yourself dressed.”

 

Obliging by the gentle command, Erin managed to pull on clothes, a t-shirt with their logo and a zip-up over it with jeans so that movement in therapy would be unrestricted in her arms. She yawned her way to the kitchen, accepting the coffee when Holtz slid it to her across the counter while she poured granola into a bowl of yogurt and berries, passing that over, too. Erin took it all with a thanks while the blonde finger-combed her auburn locks back into a half-ponytail, kissing the top of Erin’s head before scurrying off to dress herself. She returned in a pair of bleach-stained jeans and a doctored tie-dye t-shirt with wide sides, and a blue vest with pins over it.

 

Erin stared at the conglomeration of patterns before hooking a ever-strengthening finger into her partner’s belt loop, drawing her to the counter, “You need to eat, too, miss.”

 

“I promise I’m going to while you’re in therapy,” She said, holding up her pinky. “I want a pretzel bagel real bad.”

 

Accepting the gesture of their locked fingers as a guarantee she would actually follow through, Erin shot Holtz a stink-eye before giggling and finishing her breakfast. They brushed their teeth together while Holtz hastily swept her hair up, then headed twenty minutes across the city so Erin could stretch out her recovering limb.

 

She was ten minutes into her exercises when the therapist, a young woman in her early thirties, boldly wondered, “So is it true that you’re dating Dr. Holtzmann?”

 

Blinking in surprise of being asked, Erin questioned, “What makes you say that?”

 

The trainer snickered and pulled her phone from her track jacket pocket, flipping through until she found the Ghostbusters official Instagram account that Patty managed. She turned the screen around, showing Erin a picture of her and Holtzmann, staring so fondly at one another, they almost looked like newlyweds on a honeymoon.

 

Flushing, she examined the caption: When u tryin’ to have a srs mtg but these 2 are auditioning as Heart Eyes in the Emoji Movie sequel.

 

“Well, yeah,” She admitted, whimsically as she couldn’t help the tingling rushing through her at the sight. For once in her life, she didn’t try to cover up the truth. She boldly declared what was happening, even if it wasn’t what the world would want from her. “We are. Dating. We’re dating.”

 

Erin found Holtzmann waiting outside of the physical therapy office, sitting on a bench, an arm up around the top, soaking in the sunshine. She hadn’t noticed her yet, but when Erin called out, “Jill!” She stood up with a wave, then a baffled expression when Erin nearly broke into a run and tossed her arms around the woman.

 

“Hey,” She smirked, hugging back. Erin would usually hold her arm, sometimes her hand, or accept an arm wrapped around her in public. Such a bold display of affection in front of the busy New York street made her wonder if something had happened inside. “Everything okay?”

 

Erin stepped back, but kept her arms around Holtz’s neck. There was a lazy, lovesick smile on her face and she bit her lip twice before saying quietly, “I, I know — we’ve been dating, for a little while but…can we, um…really make it official? I really…I really wanna be your girlfriend.”

 

Holtzmann felt blood rush to her cheeks and a tidal wave crashing against her ear drum as she tried to comprehend that this moment was real, happening, in current time. It wasn’t a dream, or a fantasy. Erin Gilbert wanted to be her girlfriend. 

 

Unable to intelligently form words, Holtz placed a hand on the back of Erin’s head and drew her close, pressing her cheek to cheek, then hovering her lips above her ear, finally assuring her with a trembling whisper, “There’s nothing in this world I want more.”

 

Erin sighed more contently than she ever would again, save perhaps two years into the future on their wedding day. “You’re my girlfriend,” She said in a perfectly awestruck tone. “And I’m yours. We’re dating.”

 

“ _We’re dating_ ,” Holtzmann repeated after her, “You’re my girlfriend.”

 

Their embrace was long and solid, likely awkward for anyone walking by, but neither of them could possibly stand to care. Holtzmann patted her back and sighed before finally letting up a little on the hug, careful to keep them touching still. She stared at Erin through yellow lenses, smiling and quietly stating, “C’mon, let’s go home. I wanna go kiss my girlfriend.”

 

Erin took a breath, trying to keep the ecstatic expression off her face. “You could kiss her right here.”

 

Holtz blinked and looked to the left and right out of the corner of her eyes. The street was busy. They were surely going to draw a lot of attention by kissing. 

 

“I’m sure,” Erin stated, nodding once.

 

Letting out a laugh of a cry at the excitement in her blood, Holtzmann tucked Erin’s face into her hold and brought her lips to her girlfriend’s. Erin slipped one hand from her back up into her hair, the other lower on her hip as she responded earnestly.

 

Jillian Holtzmann, socially awkward and nonconforming engineer who didn’t know how to let others in or allow herself to be cared for properly, was kissing Erin Gilbert, the woman who’d overdosed on conforming to society and suppressed her true self for years, in the middle of the day, on a crowded New York City sidewalk. She was kissing her girlfriend, holding nothing back. The bitches busting ghosts, who’d been told they _couldn’t_ their whole lives, not only had changed history, but bettered and accepted who they were in the process. They kissed and kissed and kissed and kissed — because there was no force on earth that could stop the shift that had occurred in their ability to love not only one another, but themselves, in that moment.

 

When she finally let go, Holtz blinked back tears then swiped her thumb under Erin’s waterline to catch her own before taking her hands, kissing their conjoined knuckles. 

 

“I wish I had something eloquent to say.” Erin grinned, leaning in again for a quick kiss and earning Holtz’s shrug.

 

“Maybe we should go find some brilliant gay poetry and read it to each other and kiss each other between the stanzas then.” Holtz suggested, tugging her hands and leading them down the street. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's how we got to where we are :) Thank you so much for reading! The wedding will also be multi-chapter, probably the longest of the series so far — it should be up by March. Thank you for all the support!

**Author's Note:**

> So many people have asked for this, I finally decided to write it. I've scrapped most of my other Holtzbert fic ideas (lezbehonest I'm never gonna finish 2 more multichapter fics not related to this story if I start them). After this one will be the much anticipated wedding (but not JUST a wedding, come on now), and anything after that will just be an added bonus. This prequel will update over the next two Sundays.


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